Absolutely
by Anonymouslee
Summary: Ice King's fanfics are so bad, she just has to show him how it's done. So Marceline tells a story about a bad little boy in a made-up world - but then one night he shows up in hers. MarceLee, set after "Bad Little Boy". Sequel to Saudade. T for now
1. Closer

**Closer**

_Here come the dreams of you and me._

– Tegan and Sara

* * *

Lately these days, Ice King raves about "Fionna and Cake in the Land of Aaa."

Marceline is curious.

Ice King's gender-bent fanfictions are kinda bad. So bad, actually, that listeners run for the hills unless bound hand-to-foot which is exactly how Ice King goes about spreading fanfic joy. Sociopathic old fart. But she'll always humor him. And she's mildly intrigued by these stories anyway. He tells them with such vivid conviction that they almost sound _real_. Maybe it's a fanboy thing. Or maybe Ice King has just reached new levels of crazy.

Either way, Marceline is curious.

Tonight at the Ice Castle, she hovers unnoticed over Ice King and his four guest – well they're in cages so more like _captive_—princesses. Slime Princess, Wildberry Princess, Toast Princess, and Turtle Princess wail all together about ear torture and how this latest story is terrible, what if there was a little more romance? And of course Ice King fusses right back about how logical his self-cameo is in his own fic and y'all are some haters, man. The arguing could probably go on way into the night except Marceline feels like crashing this storyfest, now.

She makes the princess cages swing open and Ice King's robes flap over his head. Candles flicker and windows blow open. Just minor telekinesis tricks, no big deal. But it's still a laugh to see big bad (not really) Ice King freak out and the princesses break out in un-royal sweat.

Meanwhile she'll just casually lounge on the ice throne and introduce her presence with "Boo."

"Marceline!" Ice King jumps, then looks relieved. Yeah, 'cause Marceline the Vampire Queen is totally _harmless_. "How long have you been in here?"

"Mmm… couple hours."

"You heard my story then! Awesome, right?"

"It's… good?" It's alright if liars go to Hell; she's like the princess over there anyway. "But listen up y'all. I've got a story of my own."

Marceline's eyebrow-waggle is irresistible. Ice King and the princesses forget they're in a hostage situation and settle down.

How hard could it be to make up a dumb gender-bender Land-of-Aaa story?

'Marshall Lee the Vampire King' comes to storytelling life. He's brash and smooth and Marceline with a penis, and when she narrates the part where he rocks out at the forest party like a bad little boy the four princesses swoon. It's just smugness talking, but Marceline is pretty confident she'd make one fly vampire guy. A graveyard battle and an epic non-confession later, she finishes this _Fionna & Cake_ story with a simple

"The end."

Stories are just stories and they're not hard at all. The princesses clap and Ice King complains but clearly he's going to rip off her Marshall Lee idea.

"But look, we could polish this piece off," he wheedles at Marceline's side. She's slightly smug. "Like if Marshall Lee gets sick and dies, but he's got a brother we didn't know about! His name's Marshall Lee...roy. Boom, shocker, I feel _goosebumps_!"

Slime Princess says what everyone else thinks. "I like how it is…"

"… Everyone get out," Ice King grits his teeth like he's about to cry rivers, so everyone else shrugs and goes back home.

And that's how Marceline saves four princesss without lifting a finger. She better understands the appeal of fanfiction now. Well, time for something else to do…

She wonders what she'll do tomorrow…

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

But then she starts dreaming about that alternate universe.

The dreams are infrequent, forgettable. But after a while Marceline notices that they're too _vivid_ and she's been dream-flying around Aaa like she knows how that's like in real life. The places, the people, the sensations. It's like having a really really good tomato high not that she'd know too much about that. Admittedly, fantasizing about fanfiction is kinda lame but who is she to deny subconscious creativity? Marceline isn't too bothered.

Then one night a dream breaks fourth wall. She's in a graveyard and Manceline – or Marshall Lee, as she dubbed him— plays his axe bass on a tomb nearby. He plays effortlessly; that makes her smile and also just a tad vain. She hums along.

"Never thought I'd see your face the way it used to be*…"

Marceline is unseen, all-knowing dream-god in these fantasies. But tonight Marshall Lee looks up.

"Oh hey," he says and Marceline approaches him no questions asked like they're buddies who last met up yesterday.

From that point on her lucid dreams turn into hangout sessions. Just Marceline and Marshall Lee, chilling-talking-rocking out. He's like the twin she never had and never wished for. Which makes sense, because if anything Marshall Lee is _her_, a product of her boss imagination. But she still likes his (imaginary) company.

Sometimes in her waking hours, Marceline wonders why she keeps getting these dreams at random intervals. They're interesting and all but it's been a few months. If this imagination thing goes on forever she just might be turning into

"Maaarceline, help a brother out!" Ice King squeezes in through her window one day because apparently doors are too mainstream. Speak of the devil.

"Go away I'm napping." Marceline remains on the couch with a silk sleep mask over her eyes. Everything is mad comfy and who knows she might have 'that' kind of dream today—

_Hold up_.

Is she actually looking forward to _nap time_?

Marceline will never let sleep be the best part of her day. She has chill-but-totally-badass things to do. The mask is ripped off and she rolls off the couch and Ice King is right beside her on the floor with notebook and pen.

"What, Simon?"

Ice King is on his fat stomach, blue feet waving in the air like they're at a slumber party. "So I was thinking… for my latest fanfic, I could take you under my wing. Show you the writing ropes, huh?"

Marceline rubs her eyes. "You wanna collaborate?"

"No no, more like _mentor_," Ice King waves a hand. "I'll, uh, share some writing tips! Yeah! Just gonna show a fledgling author – that's you – how it's done!"

She smirks. "Sure you will."

Making a fanfic with Ice King is really more like her throwing out ideas and him writing them down while adding his own twist. Is Lame-ify a real word because cool stuff like a shape-shifting, Fionna-framing nemesis ends up as Ice King in playful drag, everyone goes _Haha oh Ice King let's go get BFF frozen yogurt The End._

Whatever. Marceline doesn't care about literary acclaim anyway, why not just let Simon have his weirdo fun. Then whilst writing, Ice King narrates

"_Fionna stares into Marshall Lee's eyes and thinks, 'Wow this guy is pretty hot. And he totally just saved me from that bear.' So even if Marshall Lee isn't as hot or as wise as her BFF Ice King, Fionna's heart is racing and her answer is already yes when Marshall Lee says in that baritone voice,_

_'Fionna, will you go on a date with m—'"_

"Ew," Marceline snorts. "He'd never ask that."

"What?" Ice King is indignant. "But you chicks said you wanted romance!"

"Well yeah but this one's just weird," she frowns. It's like her dating Finn, like putting the moves on the neighbor's kid whom you babysit on weekends and who could be a hot prospect one day, just now right now.

"Okay fine I'll set her up with Flame Prince." Ice King erases his scribbles. "Don't gotta be jealous, sheesh."

"Who's jealous?" Marceline scoffs because she would never be possessive about her fictional vampire man-self no sirree.

"You are," Ice King pokes her nose with his pencil. "Of my writer skills."

"Oh." Touché. Marceline smiles a little wryly. "Yeah, I guess I am."

"Hey check this out. What if Cake was really… part-mermaid? Ooh, shocker!"

"Ooh."

Marceline thinks she'll have to do something about these gender-bender dreams later.

On her twentieth-ish dream in six months or so, she's with Marshall Lee yet again. He's still awesome company. She can almost believe in perfect platonic friendships, except theirs isn't real. They're at some crowded rock concert in a coliseum and halfway through it she just has to clap a hand on his face.

"But my Grod, you feel so real," Marceline says in wonder at his super-smooth guy-skin, what anomaly is this. "Everything feels so real."

Nothing is audible above this ear-deafening uproar but Marshall Lee has excellent vampire hearing. He pinches her cheek back; it stings. "_You're_ real."

"Well, yeah."

"Cool. Keep it real."

The hands stay where they are.

Some metalhead in the back complains _get a room_ and of course the proper response would be to stick out rock hands and say _your mother_. Which leads to Marceline ditching a rock concert for the first time ever, because Marshall Lee wages a helluva Yo Mama joke war with a total stranger and the best way to cut that embarrassment short is to drag him away for food.

"You're such a baby," Marceline says. They're flying off to the nearest convenience store.

Marshall Lee scowls. "Don't hold me back next time girl."

She finds talking about the future strange because these dreams have always been only in the moment. "Aw. You're trying to look cool."

"Who says I gotta try?" he brags.

"It's just me," she reminds him. Just Marceline, reminding a figment of her imagination that they're one and the same.

"Who says it's for you?"

Her mouth twitches and that's all they need to start singing some Beatles song that goes _it's for you, it's for you, it's for you_. Marceline is never surprised at how crazy in sync they are; logic is best left behind in real life. They high five loudly.

"Hold up." Marshall Lee holds on to her. He suddenly takes her face with both hands.

"What—"

"I wanna try something," he tells her seriously. Marceline can see every facial feature on this guy and she's always refrained from being too much of a narcissist but _damn_, they've got a really good-looking androgynous thing going on. Marshall Lee is imaginary man-her and of course she gets him inside and out, but she doesn't get him right now when he's looking at her like that and why does he have his serious face on?

If she had a pulse it would be racing and for a moment Marceline wonders if he's going to kiss her. Rationale is a lightning bolt that hits her immediately.

She thinks _No no no why would I make out with myself for fuckssakes stahp._

Marshall Lee lets go.

"WAIT!" Marceline rolls off her bed and reality welcomes her back with a _thud_.

She stays on the floor in stupor for a while. Knowing that you're turning batshit crazy like Ice King crushes your soul. When did she get so uncool? Dreams should _not_ better than reality and Grod forbid she starts longing for imaginary friends to come true. And that Marshall Lee. She just wanted to tell a story, not turn into an ultra-narcissist with penis envy. Now she's going to start comparing real people to his childish impulsive smooth-talking ass, which isn't very fair because of course no one knows her like _herself_.

Why did everything have to be so real?

Marceline draws the line at loneliness. It's high time she saw a shrink or maybe an exorcist but first, she'll ward off the dreaming.

Marceline gets up off the floor.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

She comes back in the evening with a dreamcatcher the size of her head, courtesy of Choose Goose. Marceline kinda loved lucid dreaming. But she loves peace of mind more.

She finds the front door of her house-in-the-cave-under-the-bridge kicked off its hinges. Looks like peace of mind won't be back tonight either.

Marceline isn't scared, she's freaking Vampire Queen. If it's an assassin or a house burglar she could use some punching bag relief. Marceline goes inside. The first thing she smells is undead blood. All the lights are off but that's what night vision perks are for. She puts the dreamcatcher down (she's still going to bed all relaxed later); nothing feels out of place except for the intruder somewhere in this house.

Marceline hears water running upstairs.

What dumbass breaks into a house to _shower_? She goes up to the bathroom and if this turns out to be Keila or some other undead friend she's going to kill them for leaving bloodstains on the hippie rug first, then give them band aids second.

It's not Keila. Passed out in her tub is a pale black-haired dude. A vampire, from the bite marks on his neck. The shower head drips hot water over his hair; Marceline's nose crinkles because it's starting to steam in here and he's getting blood on her tiles.

"Dude, what the freak." She picks up a red plaid shirt that he left unceremoniously on the floor and that's kinda bloody too. She comes closer. "You okay?"

He mumbles when she pokes his cheek. Marceline's not heartless, that's so nine centuries ago. She'd never dump a guy into the lagoon out back when he's got a gash on his pasty torso. She better go call for help for this shower-jacking stranger.

Except he's not really a stranger. She knows him by the shape of his hands and those red converses and the lower half of his face that dripping bangs don't cover. His head rests limply against the wall. She slicks back his hair. Water drips on her sleeve but she peers closer. Has she been lucid dreaming this whole time because there's no way this is real life.

Marceline sees sleeping eyes nose lips face, identical to hers. He feels so real underneath her fingers but for the millionth time she thinks he can't actually be here.

Quietly, she calls out anyway. "Marshall Lee?"

Slowly, his eyes open at the sound of his name.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

**A/N:** There aren't enough MarceLee fics around so here's another, haha. I know I said in _Saudade _there wouldn't be a sequel for a while but eh. Sometimes you just get da urge.

How was this chapter? Review/crits always welcome :]

* Led Zeppelin song.

**Disclaimer:** AT isn't mine.


	2. No Surprises

**No Surprises**

_No alarms and no surprises please._

- Radiohead

* * *

Marceline can't see herself in a mirror anymore but she knows she has a nice face. She looks like her mother, a compilation of facial symmetry on fine bones. It's confounding to see herself reflected exactly in a _guy_ body; even stranger still that that guy body looks like it fell right out of her imagination and into the bathtub.

They stare at each other at a close distance, eye to identical eye. For all she knows he could be a house-breaking hobo who by coincidence is just like the Marshall Lee in her head. He pokes her face with a weak finger.

"You're…" He frowns. "What's going on…"

"Who are you?" she asks in a strange tone.

Dreams don't come true, but then he answers

"Marshall Lee."

Holy shit they do. Marceline keeps calm and asks "Why are you here?"

He looks as worn out as her dish rag and bloodier by far, but his grin is familiar. "I mean, it's my house…"

She'd correct him but then he winces. That wound on his chest spans abdomen to collarbone, no wonder he's half-lucid and bleeding all over the place. Questions should wait.

"Be right back," Marceline says. He grabs her hand. Shower water stays raining on his head but his face is serious. She's seen that look before.

"I know you," he states, like he's sure and unsure both at once.

Even his voice is just as she knows it.

"Are you real?" he demands.

"Are _you_?"

They could hold this staring contest for hours and forget that he's injured and her thoughts are a mess. Real life is surreal when he looks at her in wonder like that. He never called her by name in lucid dreams; it's so strange to hear it now.

"You're Marceline," he says with total conviction this time.

Marceline flies out of the bathroom with _be right back_ because the urge to do a victory dance is suddenly too damn strong in there. Oh and she's going to call for help, that too. Marceline goes downstairs and picks up the phone. She dials.

"9-1-1 operator," a nasally voice answers.

"I have a guy in my bathtub, he's hurt. He –"

"_Marceline_? Hey giiirl!"

Marceline makes an incredulous face. "_LSP_? What are you doing?"

"So I'm trying this part-time job thing," Lumpy Space Princess drawls on the other end of the line. She's no doubt filing her nails. "I was like, but that's for peasants, but Daddy was like—"

"Cool… but send my place an ambulance or something, there's a bloody guy in my—"

"Girl you're lumpin' nasty," LSP compliments. "You're in the tub you said?"

The emergency hotline is surely going to the dogs.

"I – dude. Can you just send me some help?"

"Gotcha hey Doctor so where are the lumpin' ambulances?"

Marceline puts the phone down. She also sinks to the floor. The dream catcher is on the couch where she tossed it not too long ago; it won't be much use now and she never bothers with refunds.

"Well damn," Marceline says to herself quietly. Who knows what's really going on and why but to be honest that's not really important right now. Somehow, Marshall Lee exists. She needs a moment to let that sink in and maybe hyperventilate a little.

"SHITE," Marshall Lee curses upstairs. There's a loud _thunk_ followed by a louder _THUD_ and Marceline is rushing up the stairs because those are sounds of someone falling on tiled floor and hitting their head on the toilet on the way down.

"Oh Glob." She's not wrong. Marshall Lee is face down on the floor with a lump on his brow. She turns him over, carefully (her rugs stain easily).

"You dumbhole _why_," Marceline chastises but he's passed out like a baby. Imaginary Marshall Lee would throw a fit at being uncool. She wagers this one will too when he wakes up. Marceline is no doctor so she dumps a bunch of towels over him and maybe towel magic will staunch the bleeding or some shit like that.

This guy at her feet is a bizarre miracle and if she stares at him long enough maybe things will make sense.

"Hey Marceline did someone break into your house?"

She turns around. Finn and Jake stand by the bathroom door looking confused.

_Join the club_. Marceline frowns. "What are you guys doing here? And what's with the getup?"

They're dressed in blue suits with white crosses and Jake has a flashing ambulance light on his head.

"We're honorary paramedics!" Finn and Jake bump fists.

"Wha—" Marceline starts to say but who is she to bother with hero stuff and these two are metal as fuck anyway. "You know what, never mind…"

"We'll save your guy friend Marcy," Finn declares then his voice goes three octaves higher. "Whoa he's mad bloody holy crap!"

Jake slaps his cheek. "Get ahold of yourself, Finn!"

"You're right Jake." Finn touches the slapped area. His eyes shine with hero fervor. "Doctor Princess entrusted us to save lives."

Marceline is amused. "Do you guys even know what you're doing…"

"Dude I can't feel a pulse," Jake holds up Marshall Lee's limp wrist.

"Not it!" Finn says and they can only be talking about CPR.

"Not fair!"

"Oh my Grod just take him to the hospital!" Marceline facepalms.

"Right." Finn takes Marshall Lee by the legs and Jake lifts him under the arms and slowly, they carry him down the stairs.

"Hehe. Dude has elf ears," Finn laughs.

Jake peers down at Marshall Lee's bent neck, its marks visible on pale skin. "That ain't no elf…"

Marceline senses they'll freak out in about a second and snaps "Drop him, I dare you."

"But Marceline," Jake keeps moving but he's sweating a little. "What if he bites my butt?"

"No Jake, she's right," Finn says. They step over her busted door. "Heroes don't discriminate."

"Deep stuff, brother." Jake agrees and they bump fists again. Marshall Lee's head and the left side of his body drops onto yard grass. Marceline facepalms again.

Yeah, between these guys and LSP civilians won't make it to the emergency room.

"Marcy how do you know this guy?" Finn asks when they're on Jake's enlarged back, en route to Candy Kingdom Hospital. Marshall Lee is clumsily wrapped in gauze and still unconscious. Maybe getting dropped is part of that.

"He's a friend," Marceline shrugs.

"Oh. Cuz LSP was saying something about a bathtub—"

"Why?" She smirks. "You know something about bathtubs?"

"Jake, I think she's being a perv…" Finn says nervously.

"I'll tell you when you're ready," Jake peers aside to them. "If we take him to the hospital is he gonna eat everyone?"

"Maybe." Marceline sees them sweat and snickers. "Kidding. Look at him. He's harmless."

"Oh yeah, he kinda looks like you."

"Really," she says casually and wonders if their semblance is as uncanny as she thinks it is. She needs to not wonder about that tonight. "So why _are_ you dweebs playing ambulance?"

"Dude you'll never believe, today we…"

An hour laterMarceline's good-doing is done when Marshall Lee gets patched up, courtesy of Doctor Princess and Nurse Poundcake. She should go home and fix that door and did she even turn off the shower? But she's kinda lazy and this chair is comfortable. Also, she likes watching Marshall Lee sleep on a hospital bed. It's not creepy if you're watching _yourself_, just narcissistic.

_Are_ they the same person? Is there _two_ of her now? She never was good at hypotheses.

Who cares. He's real. Oddly enough, that makes her smile. Marceline nods off.

She wakes up in the morning, still sprawled over the chair. There's a pink blanket draped over her. On the bed nearby, Marshall Lee also stirs.

"Where am I…" He looks around drowsily. Well they did tranquilize him with the dose of an elephant, just in case he woke up craving living things.

"Candy Kingdom. In the hospital." Marceline moves her chair closer. "How you feelin'?"

"Peachy," Marshall Lee says. His voice is groggy. Everything about him is familiar already and Marceline tries not to imagine how things will go from here but she can't help thinking about jam sessions and BFF-handshakes. Oh Grod things are too good to be true and she's okay with that.

Marshall Lee becomes more alert when he meets her gaze. There's bandage over his left brow, and that goes up along with his eyebrows. Curiously, he asks

"Who are you?"

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

"I'm afraid you have retrograde amnesia," Doctor Princess explains, one cognition exam later.

"Oh." Marshall Lee sits on the edge of the bed, feet swinging. "What's that again?"

"You have serious memory loss, which is why you can't remember personal details. But it should be temporary, your head injury wasn't that bad."

She didn't even know vampires could get amnesia. Marceline groans. "_You guys_…"

Finn and Jake know she means them. They rub her biceps in apology. "Oh Glob Marcy we're totally sorry!"

"Look, we even came by with a fruit basket!" Jake holds out said basket with a note on it saying _SORRY WE DROPPED U ON UR HEAD BRO_. But to be fair, Marshall Lee's headbutting of the toilet may be part of the cause too.

"It's cool." Marshall Lee grins at Marceline. "At least you know me, right?"

Oh the irony. "Right."

"Don't worry, I specialize in treating… well not undead but people in general!" Doctor Princess assures them. "I recommend your friends exposing you to your usual hobbies, to speed up the recollection process. You should remember everything again in a few weeks."

"Cool," Marshall Lee doesn't seem too fazed.

"Well you know where I am; now if you'll excuse me I have an employee to fire," Doctor Princess takes her leave and walks off.

"So what're you guys gonna do now?" Finn asks.

"If there's anything we can do…" Jake offers.

"Fix my door?" Marceline isn't really asking.

"Done. Right after our next top-secret quest!" Does she even care? But Finn whispers excitedly anyway. "We're gonna find the Enchiridion."

Marshall Lee looks mildly interested and Marceline is confused. "Huh? Didn't you guys wreck that thing last year?"

"Yeah but we heard there's a sequel," Jake explains. "That baby is ours!"

"Yeah!" Finn bumps fists with him.

"Hey so am I vegetarian or something?" Marshall Lee has the fruit basket on his lap and he frowns dubiously at it. Marceline is the only one who can be sure but everyone says _yes_.

"Hey Marceline?" he says when they're alone again. He says her name so casually this time.

"Yeah?"

"How do we know each other? How'd I end up here?"

She has to think about a viable response. "I met you a few months ago… we hung out sometimes… I'm not even sure where you're from but I guess someone jumped you and you found my house and now we're here."

That's all true, technically.

"Huh. Thanks man." Then Marshall Lee fondles his abdominal area sadly. "What kind of sicko would cut my bod?"

"No one's safe anymore," Marceline smirks. She always did suspect he was vain.

"Hide yo kids."

"Hide yo wife."

"Was I raped?" he asks in all seriousness.

"Probably not?"

Marshall Lee sighs. "Guess we'll see in a couple weeks…"

"Hey," Marceline says after a few moments. In a way, this kinda was coming. "Wanna stay with me? Until you remember your shit."

He laughs. "But this is all so sudden."

"_You're_ sudden."

"That's what she—"

"Shut up. Shut up now."

Marshall Lee's expression changes. They're eye to eye again, him sitting on the bed and her in the chair. "You don't have to, you know."

"I know."

"How well do you even know me?"

"Hmm. Not very," Marceline shrugs. "But I like you. So I'm offering."

Marshall Lee finds that plausible enough. He grins lopsidedly, one canine tooth showing. "I'll be the best roomie ever."

What _is_ she doing, exactly? Common sense reminds her of her last roommate experience but Marceline as a rule does what she feels like. She holds out a fist for righteous bumping. "I won't let you get cut."

"My hero."

Who knows what the universe is playing at but Marshall Lee who's supposed to be imaginary is _here _regardless, throwing an inexplicable wrench in her relatively chill life. Marceline can roll with it. And she's totally curious about the truth anyway.

They'll see how this goes.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

**A/N:** Aw Marceline you almost had him. Predictably, Marshall Lee will get those memories back just not right now because suspense.

Who messed up Marshall Lee? (besides Finn & Jake, trololo) And how did he get to Ooo?

Ihdk yet, it's MarceLee bonding time first.

THANKS for reviews last chapter! I like reading feedback :] and more is always appreciated. You won't have to read _Saudade_ to figure out what's going on here but I'm glad people follow the sequel. #winning

**MrsGrintLikesGuysWhoEatCarrots**: Nope haven't seen Ruby Sparks. Sounds like a good date movie though :]


	3. Take Me Out

**Take Me Out**

_So if you're lonely_

_You know I'm here waiting for you_

- Franz Ferdinand

* * *

Marceline doesn't like waiting for answers, but she'll put up with that for a couple weeks. At least, until Marshall Lee remembers just _what_ he is and _where_ he came from. She wants him around and not just to look at; intriguing things are hard to come by.

"Whoa," Marshall Lee says as they float out of the hospital and into Candy Kingdom bustle at three in the afternoon.

Marceline holds up an umbrella over the both of them. "What?"

"This place is dank."

Sure, if dank means candy houses candy streets candy everything, in all the colors of the rainbow and just as bright.

"Yeah, it's pretty chill." Marceline looks up at Marshall Lee. He's a few inches taller. "Looks familiar?"

"Nah." But he grins. "Show me around?"

Marceline doesn't really frequent Candy Kingdom. Well she used to, but that's another story entirely. Wandering around the town square with Marshall Lee is interesting; they get curious looks and every now and then she has to remind him that yes, Candy people will mind if you eat their arm off and no, that red licorice stop sign isn't a giant lollipop that no one will miss.

"My Grod," he exclaims as they sit at a fountain made entirely out of chocolate, watching crowds go by. "How do you not terrorize the hell out of this place? Everything is cute. And squishy."

"Who says I didn't?" Marceline smirks, and Marshall Lee raises an eyebrow. "But seriously, the fun wears off. And doing groceries is a pain when everyone throws garlic at you. Ugh."

"I want to touch," Marshall Lee sighs as red lollipop maids walk past, giving him the googly-eye. Silly girls.

"Wanna bounce?" Marceline nudges him. She likes that he doesn't bother asking where.

Marshall Lee's grin is not quite like hers. "Yeah."

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

Taking Marshall Lee out drinking sounds perfectly logical. All the undead and the supernatural tend to congregate at _Bebe's_. And for reasons unknown Flambo tends a bar at that joint anyway. Everyone knows bartenders give righteous life advice.

"Amnesia huh?" the flambit says, spitting fire into a couple shot glasses for them. "Tough stuff."

"So tough," Marshall Lee agrees.

"Now Marceline, ya gotta be patient," Flambo tells her. "Marshall Lee here is gonna be real vulnerable…"

Marceline doubts that. "So vulnerable."

"So, ya know, you guys take it easy."

Sounds simple enough. But Marshall Lee catches her eye.

"Admit it. You were gonna mess with me," he says. His foot prods at her stool and she kicks it off.

"Maybe a little." Somewhere along the lines of facials and baking with a really gay apron.

"Evil woman."

"Aw, c'mon. Someday we'd laugh about that."

"I'm onto you." Marshall Lee looks at her curiously, unabashed when she stares back. Then he turns his barstool to face her. "Alright, let's do this."

"What are we doing?" Marceline leans forward like he does.

"Bonding, duh. You really think I'd let you take me home without getting to know each other?" he rebukes her.

"Right. We keep it classy."

At first they try to figure out Marshall Lee's favorite color. Which is moot point, really, because he can't decide between red and green and absolutely refuses to pick both. And then the next few hours or so is spent playing 20 Questions instead, mostly directed towards Marceline because according to Marshall Lee she's the only one who remembers shit anyway.

"I see amnesia doesn't affect your personality. At all," she observes dryly.

"Still legitly ill," Marshall Lee replies. "Now answer the question."

"I would stab him anyway, then kick bad guy ass. Then I'll clean my boots a little and revive everyone and live forever. No big deal."

"… You're the shit, man. Like, oh my Grod. How do you _exist_?"

"Awesomely."

They swivel their stools around to watch some obscure ghost band playing covers onstage. Marshall Lee's head bobs a little. "Hey who does this song?"

"Springsteen?"

"It's sick. I'm gonna learn it."

Marceline watches his fingers air-guitar along. They're nimble. The motions look right. "Can you even play?"

"No idea," he laughs. "But it's happenin'. There's a music-loving bass god under all this sexy. I totally feel it."

"Well then, bass-god. I got some sets at home. We'll rock out."

"Best. Roomie. Ever. Or is it 'sugar mama'?"

"To you? Psh." Marceline rubs her eyes, just a little.

"Tired?" Marshall Lee guesses, looking a little guilty that she spent most of the previous night in a hospital chair.

"Not gonna lie… yeah."

"Wanna go to your place?"

Marceline's head tilts. "I passed the Marshall Lee Stranger-Danger Test?"

"Hells yeah, girl." They make the bro-handshake. "I trust you with my vulnerable bod. Not that I had anyone else to turn to, but you know what I mean. I like you. I'll be a total bro."

"Aw, Marshall. I gotchu."

"Should I call you Mar-Mar?"

"Nope, not enough swag." And she gets up just as a hand grips her shoulder from behind.

"_Mar-Mar_?"

Marceline turns around, but she already knows who it is.

Ash. He stands in front of her looking as he always did, with that white Mohawk and bad-boy grin and black threads that he knows shows off his biceps. Marceline was crazy about this guy.

"Long time no see babe," Ash puts an arm around her; she pushes it away. "Aw, why you so cold?"

"Hey," Marshall Lee comes forward. "He tryna mess with you?"

"Nah. Let's go," Marceline turns away but Ash takes her shoulder again. He smells of alcohol. She knows he's with his douchebag crew tonight.

"Scram, dude," he nods at Marshall Lee.

"Dude," Marshall Lee retorts. But Marceline is not about that damsel in distress life.

"I got this," she puts a hand on his arm for a moment. Then taking Ash aside, she scowls. "Go home, Ash. You're drunk."

"Go with me," Ash smiles. He has a great smile, for a tool. Why was she ever into tools? "You got magic fingers, babe. And did I mention you look great in those boots?"

And she knows in his own jerkly Ash way, he's trying to make amends. "Whatever. We're gonna go first."

"I'm better now," he insists, black eyes staring right into hers. "I need you. Ditch that joker, who the hell is that anyway he looks like a fucking princess."

_Fucking heard that_, Marshall Lee says under his breath.

"Bye, Ash," Marceline says firmly but he grabs her shoulder and her ass roughly. He leans down and kisses her; he tastes of liquor and maybe a little weed. He's tried to be forceful with her before. Brotha never learns. Marceline opens her mouth; Ash is all about tongue and she bites down when he tries to shove that down her throat.

"_BITH_," is what he more or less curses as he shoves her away and covers his mouth. Some blood trickles down his chin.

"Ay, what's goin' on over there!" Flambo calls out from one end of the bar.

"Ash-man! What's going on!" some random guy with a frohawk shouts from the back.

"Try that shit again," Marshall Lee threatens but Marceline is serious about leaving. She takes him by the arm. "What, you don't wanna gloat?"

Marceline smiles crookedly, wiping her bottom lip. "Nah."

He does it for her. "She kicked your ass, fucking asshole-princess."

"Fuh you," Ash stumbles a little, still cradling his mouth and his homeboys approach.

"See you, Flambo!" Marceline calls out nonchalantly, and just as easily leads Marshall Lee out of _Bebe's_. How great would it be to watch Ash's drunk ass get thrown out the back door but right now she's feeling a few things that she shouldn't be feeling. What was a chill night has taken a stranger turn…

Marshall Lee nudges her. "You okay?"

"Yeah."

They fly out of the Spooky Forest and over the Grasslands and Marshall Lee stays quiet the whole way back to her house-in-the-cave-under-the-bridge. His presence is soothing, though.

"Sorry about that," Marceline glances at him as they float over her door. It's still on the floor, kicked off the hinges. "That was ratch."

"Psycho exes. We all got one." He assures her. "Did I..?"

"Yeah, you mentioned her. Total psycho-bitch. Fucked with your stuff. Couch or my bed?"

"Couch. Looks hard as a mofo." He's not wrong about that; Marshall Lee sprawls over the sofa anyway. "Don't worry about Ash-man. I'll shank him if he comes over."

"My hero." Marceline pulls out pillows and blankets from the hallway closet. "Hmm… want some PJ's?"

Marshall Lee scoffs. "You want me to shank ass in lady-PJ's?"

"Whatever. Raid my closet," she dumps the blankets over him. "I'll be in the bathroom, k?"

Marceline isn't sentimental, but she spends extra time in the bathroom brushing her mouth. And also rubbing her sore shoulder and right ass-cheek a little because damn Ash has a helluva vice grip. He's not worth thinking about but for a moment she imagines kicking him in that dick that he thinks is Grod's gift to women. Ash is out of sight out of mind when she's done washing her face.

Marceline comes downstairs in rubber ducky pajamas and Marshall Lee has already made himself at home in her living room. More specifically, her couch and her sheets are now a fairly large fort. The lights are dimmed She hears instrumental plucking and knows he found her banjolele. He's inside fiddling with it and watching MTV through an elaborate slit.

"Childhood called," Marceline crawls inside the couch-fort.

"It said _rock on_, yeah?" Marshall Lee moves over. There's space for her and she wonders if he'll cry if this structure falls apart. He eyes her knowingly. "Don't even think it. And in my defense, it's a bit chilly in here."

"Because you ragequit on my front door."

"Touché. Hey, look what MTV taught me." And he proceeds to pick along sloppily to a music video on TV, sing-rapping all the wrong words. Something about spending money and being true on Sundays.

That's kinda badass for someone who picked up a banjolele five minutes ago, and who barely remembered his own name twelve hours before that. He's not actually serenading her or anything, but Marceline is touched.

"Not bad."

He gives her a look. "Wanna… talk about it?"

"Nah. I'm good."

"Good, because I did raid your closet and I found some man-plaid." Marshall Lee displays his new shirt. "Is it whatshisname's?"

"What if it is?"

"Don't care. I'd wear the hell out of it."

"Well it's mine, so be gentle." Marceline yawns. "I gotta peace out, dude."

"Peace."

"Don't break my stuff."

"Want a lullaby?"

"You _know_ a lullaby?"

"Sure. I'll sing you that song again, real slow-like."

"Actually, yeah," Marceline says suddenly. Ash is a subject she doesn't discuss, but Marshall Lee presents her with rapt attention and that makes her want to get things off her chest. "I do wanna talk about it."

"I gotchu."

The couch-fort is excellent for late-night bitching about ex-boyfriends.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

In a space of 24 hours Marshall Lee has established himself in her life. That much is apparent when Marceline wakes up in her bed next morning, expecting him to be snoring downstairs.

"Don't talk to me," Marshall Lee grumbles when she pokes at him, a human-sized lump under what used to be the blanket fort. He says _I have morning breath_ like it's her fault. "_Sangria_ morning breath, mind you."

"I gave you a toothbrush."

"It was pink."

"I have a red one…"

"Gimme."

He's not quite what she expected (not that she expected him in the first place) and yet exactly how he should be (not that she would know what that is, exactly). Marshall Lee drags himself upstairs to her bathroom with the biggest cowlick on earth second only to hers and Marceline waits until he's gone to let a dumb grin slide across her face for no real reason.

She has a roommate and he's pretty dope. Amnesia and all.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

**A/N: **Friendship overload, unf. Marshall Lee did most of the kickassery in my last story so I'll have Marceline do summa dat in this one.

Thanks for the R&R last chapter!

**lifelessgal **- _you're_ sick :D haha.

**jennyxxfasho **- you think I'm funny? ugh yess score.

**idkdontask **- yeah, I kinda like having Marceline pov too...

**DragonHalf** - I only update on the weekends :[ Oh well soon enough.

**Marceleeregina **- I always finish ifyouknowwhatimean jk(?). Hahaha. I'll def finish this fic!

And errbody else I have no words for your feedback, just appreciation. Y'all too dope.

On a sidenote, Gambino is a mastermind. If he/Marshall Lee and Olivia Olson/Marceline ever do sing together I shall drop dead that is just too much dankness for this life. Those BAMFs.


	4. If You Wanna

**If You Wanna**

_But if you wanna come back it's alright_

_It's alright if you wanna come back_

- The Vaccines

* * *

The bloodstains on her purple hippie rug won't quite come off. Marceline squats in front of the washing machine and shoves the rug back in for re-wash #2.

"Dude look."

She looks up. Marshall Lee floats above her, freshly showered and showcasing his bare chest. She's not surprised that he looks good with wet hair slicked back and jeans hanging loosely off narrow hips.

"Are you _flashing_ me?"

"Yes... No. Maybe. Actually just look," he insists.

For a slender guy, Marshall Lee has nice muscles. Marceline eyes his torso skeptically. Then she notices the absence of that huge mysterious gash from two nights ago.

"Sweet, huh?" Marshall Lee waves his unraveled bandages around with one hand. "I's healed. Praise lawd!"

"Yeah, that was pretty fast," Marceline pokes his abdomen and he doesn't wince. Speedy recovery indeed. "It's a vampire thing."

"I'm a _vampire_?" Then he snickers at her incredulous expression. "Kidding. Hey, you think I'll get over amnesia that fast?"

"You could," Marceline scratches her forehead. "Remember something yet?"

"Last night I dreamed about… fries…"

"Wow. We gotta do something about that." She gets up and pulls out Marshall Lee's red plaid shirt out of the dryer, now clean albeit torn. "Put a shirt on though."

"I'll air-dry," Marshall Lee leans against her washer admiring his biceps. "Also, I'm paying my rent. Free gun show."

"Brotha please. You wanna be grateful, go to the kitchen. Make me a sandwich."

"Don't objectify me!"

"You objectify yourself!"

Marceline flings the shirt at his head and he finally takes the hint, shrugging. "Fine then, let me mooch."

"I'm giving like that."

"Enabler."

Something small falls out of the shirt pocket as Marshall Lee puts his plaid on. It gleams a little and hits the floor with a _clink_ and rolls to Marceline's feet. It's a ring.

"What the…" she picks it up and holds it out, curiously. The ring is thick, simply engraved.

Marshall Lee says "My pimp ring!"

"Your _what_?"

He takes the ring and stares in fascination and if he starts saying _my preciousss_ to it that would absolutely make her day. Then Marceline remembers that before a certain incident he'd looked at her like that and she'd been mere seconds away from getting answers to the inexplicable. Her smile fades a little.

"I got this from someone," Marshall Lee's brows furrow in concentration. "I saw it and liked it and called it my pimp ring and…" Marceline waits to hear more but he gives up. "Meh. I forgot."

"Hey, you remembered something."

"So I did," Marshall Lee laughs. "Pimp's in the crib, ma."

"No I will not drop it like it's hot," Marceline rolls her eyes and surely he's on his way to mental recovery if he can crack rap jokes like that.

"Dude, what if I really am a p–" But Marceline snorts and Marshall Lee puts the ring on his right hand, indignant. "You know instead of laughing, you could rehabilitate me."

"I totally will. But first that sandwich."

"_You're a monster_."

But he heads to the kitchen anyway. How long has it been since someone made _her_ the sandwich for once? Marceline won't dwell on that though (the answer is _too damn long_). Gut feelings tell her that late-night jamming at a graveyard could trigger some memories in Marshall Lee's blank head. Probably. Most likely. Look at how easily he took to her banjolele last night. If there's anything she knows for sure in life (and she's had a _long_ life…), it's that music does things to you. Deep, righteous things.

Marshall Lee calls out "Your fridge is empty" and nothing else is important right now.

Marceline flies over to the kitchen and Groddamn, he's right. She stares at empty fridge racks in disbelief. "Oh my Grod, how."

Well, she kinda does know how. Lately all she did was nap eat rock out and nap again because of

"_Ow_," Marshall Lee complains when she punches his arm. "The fu..?"

"Sorry. It's not you." Or maybe it is. "It's me."

"We can go _Fight Club_ over this apple," he suggests and holds up one last red apple from the cupboard. "Or share. Sharing is caring."

"Bah. Scraps." Marceline scowls and closes the refrigerator door firmly. "Wait – _Fight Club? _Do you even know what you're talking about?"

"Nah," Marshall Lee replies truthfully. "It just came out."

"Nice," she grins because they're getting a good head start on this amnesia thing already. "Look at you, making pop culture references."

"It's the pimpness of this ring," he says and they stand there for a moment, looking at the band displayed on his finger and thinking very different thoughts. Then they exchange glances. His urgent look mirrors hers; they have their priorities set straight.

"So I'm feeling the hunger," Marceline says.

"Struggles so real."

"Let's go get fries."

"Yeah let's."

"Wait," Marshall Lee says before they go out of her still-busted doorway. He tugs at the bottom ends of his shirt; there's a fabric tear right over where his wound used to be and it's a diagonal peek at pale abs. "Are you sure I wasn't violated?"

Marceline sighs.

"I'll get you another plaid…"

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

Even in the post-apocalyptic world, an In-N-Out* thrives. It's a short ways outside of Candy Kingdom and today is one of those days where Marceline doesn't mind passing by that sickeningly sweet land of candy happiness.

"Haha… _in and out_," Marshall Lee says to her. They're inside the fast food place and waiting in an assorted line of candy people, wizards, and humanoid animals. Errbody comes together for off-the-chain fast food.

"You do _not_ make fun of the In and the Out," she elbows him.

"What else am I supposed to think, their menu says _Animal Style_—"

A cashier calls out "Next, vampire people! Like move it, I gotta take my lumpin' break oh my Glob _Marceline_?!"

"_LSP?_" They come over to the counter and sure enough Lumpy Space Princess is in a white blouse red apron and franchise ball cap, working the cash register. Marceline can almost forget dire hunger. "Cool hat."

"Ugh, not even. So wrong for my complexion."

"What happened to the 9-1-1 hotline?"

"Doctor Princess lumpin' fired me, man. Like what the lumps? But I was all nuh-uh, ain't nothing gonna bring down these—" LSP's focus shifts from Marceline to Marshall Lee standing by her side. "Well helloooo."

"Hey," Marshall Lee flashes one of those easy grins with a little nod and Marceline suspects they'll be stuck at this cash register for a while. But then the manager comes over and sends LSP to the kitchens, why is she holding up the line all the time go make some fries or something and sorry about that guys, I'll take your order.

Marshall Lee decides that he likes round tables so they sit at one of those and agree that these fries are the bomb-diggity, and they're not even red.

"You're the only other vampire I know that'll eat this stuff," Marceline observes.

Across from her, Marshall Lee chews thoughtfully. "Our people are missing out. This is feeding my _soul_."

"_Isn't it_?"

"Forreal. Like, if someone took my fries right now I'd bitch-flip."

She smiles. "I totally get that."

He raises a man-brow. "Oh yeah? Tell me."

"Tell you what?" But Marshall Lee props his cheek up with one hand and waits expectantly. "It's a lame story. Don't worry about it."

"Why do I feel like I know this story."

"Um…"

"You told me this before," he accuses and Marceline isn't sure enough about otherwise to correct him. "C'mon now, how is this vulnerable brotha gonna open up to you when you don't open up to him? I didn't _choose_ to forget you, you know."

"First of all, you are the least vulnerable maybe-rape victim I have ever seen in life," Marceline retorts. She doesn't really have a _second of all_, though, so she exhales and summarizes that thousand-year-old daddy drama into "Some time ago I was gonna meet up with my bum dad in here. He was crazy late and I thought maybe he ditched me so I waited outside, then when I came back in he was stuffing his face. With my fries."

Marshall Lee pats her hand in sympathy. "You're so strong."

"He didn't even like people-food, man."

"Lemme guess, you gave him the silent treatment."

"Big time. I even wrote a song." She shrugs. "Oh well. We're cool again now."

"You write songs?" Marshall Lee takes a sudden interest in that.

"Yeah sometimes." More like _all_ the time. But he doesn't need to know about her top-secret song-diary.

"How do you feel about rap songs?"

There's something near-telepathic about the looks they exchange and Marceline isn't sure who does it first but they both grin, vampire fangs showing.

"Let's do it."

"You guys! I'm on my break!" Lumpy Space Princess' unmistakable voice calls out. She comes over. They must have been way too engrossed in that whole song discussion because Marceline and Marshall Lee have to lean back away from each other to make room for LSP. She sits down with a tray of food and takes off her In-N-Out hat, moodily.

"Can you believe my manager? Excuuuse me for bringing perfume to work, maybe customers do want their fries to smell classy," LSP complains as she stress-binges and Marceline and Marshall Lee cough slightly in case their fries really were sprayed with _Moonlight Passion_, Grod forbid. "But anyway! Who's your friend, Marceline?"

"LSP, Marshall Lee," Marceline says, entertained by the way LSP's eyes sparkle when they look at Marshall Lee who radiates chillness with one arm slung over his chair.

"So do all vampire guys look like that or is it just you?" LSP asks.

"Do we all look like that?" Marshall Lee asks Marceline.

"It's just him. He's an original," she answers with some sarcasm.

LSP's small stubby hands both support her chin(s). Her voice takes on a sultry tone. "You from around here, Marshall Lee?"

"Nah I'm just visiting," he says easily.

"Visiting Marceline?" Then LSP gasps. "Oh. My. Glob. You're the _bloody guy in her bathtub_?"

"Long story," Marceline addresses Marshall Lee's confused look. "But yeah, though for some reason she thinks—"

"Sick nas-tay," LSP says admiringly. "So nasty you went to the hospital?"

"Is this what I think it is..?" Marshall Lee smirks and of course he'd find kinky shit funny, what else did she expect?

"It wasn't my fault," Marceline says.

"I really was hurt though," Marshall Lee adds with a straight face and her leg is long enough to kick him under the table because there's no benefit in leading LSP to conclusions.

"I ain't judgin' you guys. Go on with your bad selfs." LSP winks coyly. Then she starts waving at someone. "Look who it is! Hey giiiirls!"

A bodacious pink-haired princess and a turtle chick come over to their table.

"Marceline," Princess Bubblegum says, surprise on her face.

"Bonnibel," Marceline says back. "How's it going?"

"Just getting food…"

"Me too…"

"You guys, this is Marshall Lee," LSP introduces him, casually touching his shoulder.

"Pleasure to meet you," Bubblegum and Turtle Princess smile those friendly princess-smiles.

"Oh my Glob you guys, sit _down_," LSP insists. "You know I saved his life back in my operator days?"

Marceline and Princess Bubblegum aren't really at odds with each other anymore. Rather, they're at that awkward post-conflict phase where making up is hard to initiate. Marceline is well aware that Miss Perfect Princess is sitting beside her avoiding eye contact.

_What are we, twelve?_

"… And I was like, I don't care if you can't drive, Finn and Jake! You get over to Marceline's cave-shack right now!" LSP drawls on, waving a burger.

"You poor guy," Bubblegum looks at Marshall Lee with sympathy. "How do you feel?"

"Like a survivor," he replies. "Life is precious."

Marceline snorts. Bubblegum frowns at her. "Accidents aren't a joke, Marceline."

"So sorry, your Highness," Marceline frowns back and the two of them sit in silence while LSP and Turtle Princess inquire about Marshall Lee's interests, where are you from and you got any cute guy friends?

"I'll get back to you guys later, I kinda have amnesia right now," he shrugs. The princesses gasp and Marceline supposes that's what happens when you're a cute guy with amnesia, all the chicks want to fix you.

"You are so lucky I mean nice to take care of him," LSP elbows her in the ribs.

"That's being a real friend," Turtle Princess agrees.

"Yes, very unlike you," Bubblegum says and everyone stares. The princess blushes magenta. "I meant… the taking care part… oh you guys know what I mean!"

Today is not the day to address how ridiculous the two of them are being. Marceline chooses to bounce. "Marsh let's go do… stuff…"

"Mm, stuff." He takes her umbrella.

"I shall go order," Bubblegum gets up awkwardly.

"Me too," Turtle Princess does likewise.

And LSP is left alone to say _you guys come back tomorrow_.

"I don't have drama with everyone I swear," Marceline tells Marshall Lee outside. He opens her purple umbrella to shade them.

"You and Bubblegum had a thing," Marshall Lee observes her face.

"Ew. No."

"Liar!"

"Pervert!"

Marshall Lee denies nothing and neither does she.

"You know I'm gonna find out," he says smugly. "I'll know everything about you."

Marceline has been told that before.

"Sure you will."

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

**A/N:** I drop hints and references all the time so if you do catch those... noice :] This ship is gonna sail around the friendzone for a while but imho good stuff happens over there anyway. /gg

* In-N-Out = best food, everyone go. #shamelessplug

** Song references. Praise Mariah and Snoop.

Thanks for the R&R last chapter! Lemme know how this was.

**Guest**: Haha yeah, it's cool when chicks do their own thing.

**I'm The Doctor**: Doctor.. _who_? Lol. Your music taste is dope.

**cs7**: Haha ty. I try.

**Guest**: Same life, Prismo just changed it so that they never met. You know what I mean though!


	5. This Modern Love

**This Modern Love**

_Throw your arms around me_

_Do you want to come over and k__ill some time?_

- Bloc Party

* * *

**A/N:** I made a writing boo-boo. Ice King can't show up in the story yet. So I redid the last chapter and cut out the kidnapping part. No action y'all. :[

* * *

They come back to her house in the evening with groceries and a bag of new man-clothes. Marshall Lee can't expect to borrow her shirts all the time. Definitely not her black _Metallica _tee. Also, Marceline refuses to lend her boxers to anyone and why does he know the contents of her wardrobe so well anyway?

"But the real question is, why do you even _have_ boxers?" he shoots back.

Marceline thinks the answer is obvious. "Variety."

They find her front door completely fixed. There's a note stuck over the handle.

_'We upgrayded it. – Finn & Jake'_

"_Where_?" They both say because the door still looks like a perfectly average door. Oh well. Marceline opens it and goes inside.

"Did you really have to get me Mace?" Marshall Lee sits on the counter, feet swinging, watching her restock the fridge with edible red things. Marceline is not a cook.

"Sure I did. What if you get stabbed and robbed again or whatever?"

He aims the spray bottle at her and mouths _pew-pew_. "You should worry more about your ex."

She laughs. "Ash is a punk."

"Who said I was talking about Ash?" Marceline throws an apple at that grinning face and he catches it easily. "Whoa, kidding. You'll give me double amnesia."

"You know, for a guy who can't remember his favorite color you're taking things pretty well."

"I ain't worried," Marshall Lee shrugs. "I'm crashing with you."

She'll have to figure out how to explain the dream thing. What could be so hard about telling Marshall Lee that he may or may not be a figment of her imagination? Marceline gets lost in deep though with cold fridge air hitting her face like some kind of zen aura and eventually Marshall Lee taps her shoulder.

"Mar-Mar."

"What?"

"What rhymes with ostrich?"

**\/\/\/\/**

"_Awesome rich_."

"_Call a bitch_."

"_Fresher than my lozenges_."

"That doesn't even rhyme!"

"Fuck rhyme, you want flow."

She ended up taking him to the old graveyard after all. It's not exactly like the one she dreamt of, but similar enough to feel like déjà vu. They sit on an old marble tomb and make music, just like that first night with imaginary-Marshall Lee.

The real thing is cross-legged across from her, fiddling with her axe bass. His fingers are dexterous. They stumble over the strings sometimes but Marceline doesn't doubt that whoever he is, Marshall Lee is meant to handle a guitar.

"I'm a natural," he grins at her and she wonders how good of a musician he really was if he picks up musical skills this fast.

"What's it like in there?" she reaches out to poke his forehead. "Not remembering and stuff."

"Empty. Lots of despair..." Marshall Lee plucks on. "Not really. Honestly, I dunno what I'm missing so it's okay. Things come back."

If only that applies to Hambo. And Simon. But she still likes Marshall Lee's relaxed outlook on his situation. They sit for who knows how long, not speaking just humming, and synchrony is effortless. It's nice.

Halfway through casual strumming Marshall Lee suddenly tells her "Your guitar is giving me feels, you know."

"Regular feels? Memory feels?"

"Both." He looks down at the instrument in his hands like it's familiar and yet also kind of foreign. "I mean, I don't even sound that great but I'm getting happy as fuck just messing with it…"

Marceline knows what kind of happy he's talking about. "I feel you."

Marshall Lee is about to say something else. Then he hands her bass back. "Ah, forget it. Show me that thing again."

"For sure." She adds an afterthought. "But you _know_ lozenge flows with ostrich."

In the end they can at least agree that the rap lyrics should have

_I be on that other shit_

_And you can't handle none of it._

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

The week goes by in a vivid haze. Marceline is already long-accustomed to the freeloader downstairs who makes himself at home on her couch. Or maybe partner-in-crime is a more accurate description; his interests range from rocking out to dumb jokes and that suits her just fine.

'_Let's go do _this-and-that' becomes a familiar phrase for the two of them.

"Are you sure you guys aren't long-lost twins or something?" Jake asks one day. They're at the tree fort playing some new go-kart video game on BMO.

"Pretty sure," Marceline replies, hands dancing on the controller. "Why?"

"Y'all are crazy in-sync, man."

"BFF bracelets," Marshall Lee explains and Marceline holds up a wrist along with him. They both sport bat-shaped Silly Bandz. By now they've started bumping fists at all the righteous moments and they do just that.

"Sick. I want some," Finn tells Jake.

"Dude focus," Marshall Lee says but Finn's video game go-kart runs over a banana and crashes into flames.

"NUTS," the boy groans tiredly and deflates into the couch.

"You're out of it today, Finn," Marceline observes.

"It's this new quest, man. It's boggling my brain juices."

"What quest? What happened to the Enchiridion sequel?"

"Oh that. We took a break," Jake sits down with a mug.

Marshall Lee is mildly interested. "Enchiridion?"

"Yeah it's this hero book… here I got a picture on my Instagram." Jake pulls out his cellphone and displays said hero book. "Pretty sweet right?"

"Yeah I think I've heard of it."

"We'll find that sequel," Finn says with determination. "But right now we've got a mystery on our hands."

Jake shows another picture. It's of a symbol sprayed on a building. Marceline pinches her nose so as to not snort.

"Someone's been graffiti-ing that around Lemongrab," Finn explains. "Pretty fishy, huh?"

Marshall Lee has the audacity to say "What _is_ that?"

"We think it's a mysterious underground symbol," Jake says. "See? It's like a sideways 8 with a baguette in the middle."

"Or, it could be an elephant," Finn says. The two heroes gasp.

"You don't think… Tree Trunks…"

"… went thug life?" Marshall Lee suggests.

"Nah," Finn rubs his hairless chin. "She couldn't. Could she?"

"But then _who_?" Jake rubs his.

Who indeed.

"A real no-brainer I mean puzzler," Marceline says.

"I want to see," BMO waves from the coffee table. Jake holds up his phone; BMO squints at the picture for a moment. Then gasps, then blushes, then runs out of the living room with a soft _waaaaaaah_.

"BMO what's wrong!" an alarmed Finn runs after it.

"What's up with him?" Marshall Lee catches Marceline's eye. Their staring contest is a stand-off to see who laughs their ass off first.

"See, you guys are doin' it again," Jake exclaims.

Marshall Lee gets up on the excuse of going to the bathroom and Marceline knows she won this round.

"Doin' what now?"

"Nevermind. Marshall Lee's just cool, man."

"Hmm, yeah."

Jake eyes her shrewdly. "You look pretty happy, Marceline."

She always was closer to Finn than Jake. Probably because she tried to eat the dog on their first encounter. But Jake always keeps it real.

"I wasn't emo before, was I?" Marceline asks, a little self-consciously. She wouldn't blame him if he said _yeah_ – she did spend the last few months in hibernation.

"Nah girl," he pats her shoulder. "You're just super chill lately."

"Who's super chill lately?" Marshall Lee floats back into the living room.

"What happened to _I gotta take a huge leak_?" Marceline says.

"About that… Jake some weirdo cat is tryna sneak in through your bathroom window. Says she's gonna assassinate the hell out of you."

"Not again. I'm a father!" Jake groans and runs off after Finn. "Fiiiiin?"

Marshall Lee sits back down beside Marceline. He relaxes like she does, long legs stretched haphazardly and shoulders sinking into the back of the couch.

"You think we could be twins?" she asks him.

"Sure," he shrugs. "You're my sister from another mister."

"Hurry up and get better."

"Aye-aye, cap'n." Then he smirks. "Change of plans tonight?"

Marceline supposes they'll have to stop spray-painting penises in Lemongrab for a while and maybe mess around in Cloud Kingdom for a change.

"Let's go do…"

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

Marshall Lee steadily starts to remember.

The guitar skills are first to come back. Marceline expected that, at the rate with which they jam together. He remembers having an absentee demon mother. He had a stuffed bear as a kid. He recalls small things at the strangest stimuli, like a rabbit-eared hat in a store, a gumball machine, even the way her dog Schwabl growls at him.

"You're gonna love me," he tells her zombie poodle. The next day he whines "Why won't he like me? Everyone likes me."

Everyone they run into does like Marshall Lee, at the club at the store and the corner of the street. Maybe it's the smile. Maybe it's the smooth-talk. Marshall Lee likes to be liked. Marceline isn't bad at socializing either but sometimes he makes her wonder if being amicable is even that rewarding.

"Nah," he assures her. "I do it just because. Try it."

"I don't wanna."

"And that's why you're the Bill to my Ted."

"_I'm_ Ted."

Marshall Lee can now vaguely remember places and people that she's never heard of. Somewhere with a beach and someone named Simone. He frowns sometimes, when a memory floats in the back of his mind but won't resurface. But if amnesia is getting more frustrating than he lets on, it doesn't show. Marshall Lee is perpetually easygoing.

_Things come back_.

In the second week Marshall Lee is still a fairly useless roommate; it turns out he can't cook or fix things either. But Marceline likes that he can hang. Their days consist of staying out 'til daybreak doing whatever and passing out in the living room afterwards. Music is a daily, spontaneous practice. And as always, recovery is something to simply wait for. She can't really help much besides hang out anyway.

One early morning Marceline finds him awake. He's on the couch, writing with dim lights. She peers over his shoulder.

"Is that a diary?"

"_Holy—_how do you do that?" Marshall Lee complains, in reference to her knack of appearing suddenly. "And no, it's a _journal_."

"What for?" She eyes the small notebook that he angles away from her sight. "You got feelings, bro?"

Marshall Lee is indignant. "If you must know, Doctor Princess told me to write my thoughts down. It's therapeutic or whatever."

How ironic that Marshall Lee likes to nose about her business but he didn't tell her about his man-diary.

"What're you thinking?"

"Go to bed."

"I wanna read it."

"Don't even try."

She lets the argument go because by now, she knows he can't keep things from her for long.

The following night Marceline finds that dream catcher she was going to use. Or more specifically, Marshall Lee unearths it from somewhere and waves it in her face.

"Aw, Marcy." He marvels at the large size. "You got big bad nightmares?"

"Not even."

"I'll keep them away." Marshall Lee opens his arms wide but that's not how bros roll. Marceline laughs and walks off; Marshall Lee and Marceline don't hug.

Then arms encircle her shoulders from behind, lightly.

"What are you doing?"

"I believe it's called a hug."

"They can also go face-to-face."

"Hm. Next time." His breath is cool against her ear. "Can you feel us bonding?"

"You've been watching rom-coms again," Marceline says.

"That shit is amazing."

"Such a manly-man. What're we doing tonight?"

He laughs, and lets go.

"Let's go do…"

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

**A/N:** Penis graffiti teehee. On a more mature note it's about that time to have conflict so Marceline is getting competition next chapter... kind of. But really.

Thanks for the reviews last chapter!

* _I Be On That_ - Childish Gambino and Instagram referenced.

**monkey**: LSP is too dank man.

**Marceleeregina**: Well I chopped off your fave part so thousand apologies, haha.

**I'm the Doctor**: Yea I was planning to stick a few in there every now and then. Enjoy :P

**cody murphy**: Lul cyber-waffles, wow man you make boss motivational speeches. Much respect.


	6. Fluorescent Adolescent

**Fluorescent Adolescent**

_The best you ever had is just a_

_Memory and those dreams_

_Aren't as daft as they seem._

- Arctic Monkeys

* * *

Marshall Lee looks like her. Each day the likeness gets more apparent, and not just to her. Marceline is getting used hearing _Hey is that your brother _when she's showing him around Ooo.

She can't really blame others for the assumption when the two of them have been practically joined at the hip for the past couple weeks since he moved in. It must be because of those BFF bracelets they found in a cereal box.

"Yeah, must be," Marceline mutters as she flips through television channels in the living room.

"Talking to yourself again?" Marshall Lee asks. He sits on her now-clean rug, hands tapping on her bongo drum. "You've been alone for too long."

True, but he doesn't need to know that. "And you're off-beat."

"I'm _relearning_." But he picks up the beat by half. "How about now?"

"Not bad."

Marshall Lee gets that immersed look whenever he plays around with her instruments, with or without her. She remembers what looking at yourself in a mirror is like and watching him drum away blissfully is something reflective like that.

"When are you gonna let me play your axe bass?"

"When you get on my level."

"So like now."

"Yeah right."

Marshall Lee is a natural when it comes to music and knows it. He smirks, as cockily as she would. "You'll see."

Marceline has told herself she won't jump to conclusions about his origins before he got better, but sometimes it's tempting to phone her father in the Night-O-Sphere and ask _Dad, did Mom have a secret bastard son I don't know about because I'm pretty sure I found him._ Then again she doesn't really want to know what her dad would say about that.

Universal remotes are for channel-surfing and Marceline flips through _Wrestlemania_, some kind of Korean Rainicorn drama, and an uncut version of a thriller-romance flick (Marshall Lee huffs when she browses past this one).

Then they see an advertisement for tonight's rock concert in the Spooky Forest. Marceline stares; she knows the band rocking out onscreen.

"Pretty sick," Marshall Lee observes. He nudges her. "They're on your level."

Of course they are. They're the Scream Queens and forever ago, she was their bassist.

"Whoa, no bass," Marshall Lee stares at the TV. "Not bad at all."

Marceline hasn't been to a Scream Queens gig in months.

"Hey," she says suddenly. "Wanna go see them? In the flesh and everything."

Marshall Lee looks up inquiringly. "Tonight?"

"Yeah tonight!"

"You gonna make me scalp tickets?" But he lets her drag him to his feet. Marceline grins.

"Only if you want to."

"Mar-mar," he gasps. "You got connections?"

That's one way of putting it.

_They kinda used to be my band._

"You'll see," she tells him.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

The Scream Queens are made up of a vampire guitarist, a ghost drummer, and a changeling on keyboard. They're getting popular. They've changed. Keila's voice is raspy, oddly infectious. Guy plays more funk now. And Bongo has a completely different drumset. Their new sound is unlike anyone else's in the music scene.

Marceline, watching from the fourth row, is proud impressed and kind of nostalgic all at once. Her ears sting and the stage lights are glaring and it can only be twice as bad up on that stage. The building shakes. The crowd goes wild.

"_HOLY SHIT," _Marshall Lee yells at her when Bongo concludes a very long very impressive drum solo that raises an uproar.

"_RIGHT?"_ She shouts back. She's getting elbowed everywhere and going deafer by the minute, a sure indication of a sick-nasty show.

She raises up rock hands and Marshall Lee does likewise. How bizarre is it that this feels almost like that one dream she had that one time? Fleetingly, Marceline thinks about clapping a hand over Marshall Lee's enthralled face.

But of course she won't; she already _knows_ this is real life). Then some guy that looks half-troll shoves his way between them screaming "_I LOVE YOU SCREAM QUEENS OH MY GLOB_."

"Hey!" Marceline snaps.

"Not cool!" Marshall Lee shouts but overly excited troll-guy is already pushing his way through the next row.

"Your mother!" the guy shouts back and like sudden sixth sense Marceline knows Marshall Lee is about crack a yo mama joke.

"_Your_ mother is so—"

"Shh," Marceline pats his cheek placatingly. Respect the music.

Then all too soon the concert is over. Keila's voice resonates as the Scream Queens thank everyone for coming out tonight and for being a sick-nasty crowd. The earth always looks a zillion times brighter after a good show. Marceline thinks nothing can kill her excellent mood, not even the crowd's ridonkulously slow migration to the exit.

Naturally, it takes ages for several hundred people to go through several doors. Just as naturally, Marshall Lee takes her hand.

How freaked out would he be if she 'accidentally' let go and lost him in this crazy sea anyway? Then Marceline decides to save that for another concert (there will definitely be another concert). Watching his plaid-covered back in front of her is nice. Holding hands is nice, even if she's perfectly able to wade out of a post-concert stampede by herself.

But she hasn't really been by herself these days, has she?

That's nice too.

"C'mon," she pulls him aside when they're out in the parking lot. Marshall Lee raises a skeptical brow when she leads him to the very backmost part of the building.

"How do you know these guys again?"

"Oh, we used to jam."

Lights are sparse and vehicles are few in this private part of the lot. They make their way to the inconspicuous brown van parked by a back door, three figures gathered around it. The Scream Queens never did trust tech crews to load their equipment for them.

Keila still wears those green dresses. Guy still has that scraggly goatee. And Bongo still refuses to ascend to the afterlife. Marceline smiles.

"Need a hand?"

The Scream Queens stop in mid-haul, their backs turned. Slowly, Bongo and Guy set down the last amp.

"Did you guys hear that?" Keila asks them casually.

"I think it's a ghost," Bongo says.

"No, it's a bum," Guy says.

"A lazy bum."

"A bum who doesn't really wanna help 'cuz she's lazy like that—"

"Who's lazy!" Marceline snaps and the Scream Queens turn to the sound of her voice. They stare. Then they grin. Then they gather around her like she never quit out of the blue three years ago. The four of them do that complex 4-way high five they used to do back when together, they were _Marceline_ and the Scream Queens.

"Marceline!"

"You came!"

"Marceline!"

Keila has an arm around Marceline's shoulders. She notices Marshall Lee next to her and looks surprised. "And Marceline's… brother?"

"Roommate," he corrects, greeting her with a nod and a grin. Three pairs of eyes stare at him.

Bongo gasps. "Say whaat."

"Wait a minute," Keila points a finger in scrutiny. "Who was it that said '_I'm never ever living with a guy again ever, men are pigs_?'"

Time to distract them with pretty shiny things; Marceline pulls Marshall Lee close. "Hey y'all, this is Marshall Lee and he digs that you guys go bass-less."

That instantly puts him in the band's good graces. Bongo slaps hands with Marshall Lee. "My man."

And they take a moment to discuss the finer points of synergy.

"But how do you _do_ it?" Marshall Lee says skeptically. "I saw y'all's modifiers up there. So sick. So _many_."

"A critic? Get in the back," the other guys drag him into the van. Marshall Lee throws Marceline a silently-fangirling look, hands on cheeks. The doors close and that's the last she'll see of him until he's been fully converted to bass-free music.

Which leaves Marceline and Keila free to hug and squeal and all that lady stuff without making the dudes feel uncomfortable.

"About time you came!" Keila chastises, holding both her hands and swinging them.

"I know, my bad! You guys killed it!"

"You look great."

"_You_ look great!"

"Oh stop it, you." Keila moves back and looks at her from head to toe. "You could've told us you were coming. We could've rocked out."

"Yeah, I know."

And they both already know that for her own reasons, Marceline just isn't about that aspiring-rock star life anymore.

Old friends know better than to nag; they let things go. "So who is this mystery man and why have I never heard of him and why are you wearing _matching plaid_?"

"Long story. Let's talk about your tour."

The other vampire pulls out car keys. "Oh, we will. But first—breakfast at midnight."

"You know I don't do babies," Marceline grimaces.

"I do. But I'm thinking more like raw steak, ya feel me?"

Marceline's vegan scruples can handle that. "I feel you."

Breakfast at midnight with the band and the roommate is appealing. They turn to leave. But Marceline pauses because she suddenly hears faint voices from around the corner of the building. One is familiar; it's a girl's.

"Unhand me!"

Keila hears it too. "Do you hear that..?"

Marceline also hears "_C'mon cute stuff let's go chill" _and _"Are you an angel 'cuz I think you fell from heaven_".

"I demand you let go of my person!" Bubblegum's dignified voice retorts. What is she even doing here and when will she learn to tell her five thousand wannabe-kidnappers _fuck you, fuck off, I know karate_? Marceline immediately flies over to do the telling for her.

She turns around the corner and there's Bonnibel Bubblegum, backed into a wall by three really sketchy-looking, mohawked guys. Are they Ash's friends? Marceline isn't quite sure, she's not too good at recalling ugly faces. To her credit Bubblegum stands her noble ground, all five-feet-four-inches of her. She's wearing that black _Metallica_ shirt over pink jeans. She has a bouquet of violets in one hand and her pink hair is flows in the breeze. Bubblegum is very likely the most adorable most out-of-place person here in a three-mile radius.

Typical.

"Pretty girl like you shouldn't be alone," Punk 1 tells Bubblegum reassuringly.

"And what's with the flowers?" Punk 2 says. "I got this big vase at my crib, you can put 'em in and water 'em real good—."

"Your poor sexual innuendo doesn't escape me," Bubblegum retorts, patience wearing thin.

Marceline flies over and shoves Punk 3 away before he can add more epic fail to the conversation. "Go home, y'all. She's with me."

Everyone looks at her, startled.

"Where'd _you_ come from!" Punk 1 exclaims and she grins maniacally.

"Oh, you know. Hell."

And she probably really looks like some psycho demon bitch under the streetlight with glowing red eyes and serial killer aura because the three guys shudder in distaste and back off, muttering. Marceline rearranges her facial features; they're normal again when she turns around to Bubblegum.

"Thank you," Bubblegum says, dusting herself. She's used to these situations.

"Watcha doin' here, princess?"

"I came to see the band, of course."

"Watcha doin' here _alone_?"

The princess gives her a look. "You mean a girl can't enjoy a concert without a chaperone?"

It's not Bubblegum's fault if her other refined friends don't want to come to rock concerts in Spooky Forest. But Marceline still sighs. "Finn and Jake won't always get to you in a heartbeat, you know. At least get a rape whistle or something."

"Marceline!" Bubblegum sounds scandalized.

"It's true though!"

"I can handle myself, thank you very much."

Marceline scoffs. Bubblegum asks, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

"Be real with me."

Marceline can be real. Maybe too real. "You know Bonnie, for a smart chick you're pretty dumb."

Bubblegum's arched brows raise. Well, it's too late to take the words back. Marceline won't quit while she's ahead. "You've got all kinds of scrubs trying to get with you everywhere you go, you _know_ this. At least bring pepper spray or something when you're alone!"

"A princess uses her—"

"I don't care, shit happens to anyone! Get. Freaking. Mace."

"—words," Bubblegum finishes lamely.

Marceline is only slightly sorry. "Too real?"

"No, you have a point." Bubblegum says grudgingly. "But I really can take care of myself, you know."

Yeah, but does she have to be such a princess about it? Marceline sighs.

"I know you can, Bonnie."

She's not sure what to say next. Did Bubblegum just admit she was right?

Then Keila clears her throat. She joins them under the streetlight. "Hey princess. Nice flowers."

"You were spectating the whole time?" Marceline says dryly.

"Hello Keila! They're for you," Bubblegum hands the bouquet over. "You guys were wonderful tonight."

"Like you needed any help," Keila retorts to Marceline, and accepts the flowers gracefully. She likes violets. "Thanks. You both came out tonight, how cool is that?"

"Way cool," Marceline and Bubblegum say at the same time. They glance at each other awkwardly.

"So that show…" Marceline says.

"So how are Guy and Bongo..?" Bubblegum asks.

Keila replies "Pretty good. Come on, they'll wanna see you."

"Er…"

Marceline wonders what Bubblegum is glancing at her for, it's not like she physically hates that the princess is around. That was so three years ago. Keila eyes the two of them. Then she rolls her eyes.

"Oh for the love of… Princess Bubblegum, wanna go eat?"

"Er…"

Marceline feels Keila nudge her arm as if to say _ask her, you know you want to, don't be childish why are you guys so childish_.

Bubblegum is prim and Marceline is stubborn and together their friendship was rather interesting. It's high time someone admits to wanting to hang out again.

"You should come," Marceline says. The offer comes out more easily than expected. "It'll be chill."

Bubblegum looks so surprised it's kind of insulting.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

"… And that's how we were like, 'fuck the system we don't need no manager!'" Bongo ends the story, which brings everyone up to date with the Scream Queens' route to rock stardom.

"No offense," Guy quickly tells Bubblegum, who smiles at the memory of managing _Marceline and the Scream Queens_.

"Good times," she says.

"Really good," everyone agrees.

Marceline did not expect to reunite with Keila, Bongo, Guy, and _Bubblegum_ of all people, here in a 24-hour diner in Breakfast Kingdom. Squeezing everyone into a booth almost feels like old times – but the best thing about old times is that they already happened.

Keila wasn't joking about the steak. She cuts her raw meat like a sir and ignores fascinated stares. "So tell us about yourself, Marshall Lee."

Marshall Lee sits across the table between Bubblegum and Marceline. "Let's see… I like guitars... and hanging out… I'm trying to launch my rap career but Marceline is a total critic—"

"You call yourself _Marshizzle-dizzle_," Marceline points out.

"You know you like my beats."

"It's your rapper name I got beef with."

"But yeah she's actually pretty supportive of my craft," Marshall Lee diffuses conflict easily. "Helps me out with lyrics and everything."

"Can we get a little preview?" Bongo requests.

Marceline exchanges glances with Marshall Lee. She knows what he'll say.

"_I ain't gotta fake shit_

_My cup runneth over you can take sips_*."

The Scream Queens nod agreeably. "Not bad."

"Hey guys…" Bubblegum says suddenly. Marceline follows her gaze out the window; the sky is still dark outside but turning ever-so-slightly lighter over the horizon.

Keila doesn't play around with sunlight. "Let's bounce."

It's only when they're in the van and halfway out of Breakfast Kingdom that Guy says "Did someone pick up the bill because I think we just did a dine-and-dash…"

"Oh," Keila frowns behind the wheel. Then she shrugs and turns up the radio. "My bad. I'll send a check."

"And that is what you need managers for," Bubblegum says, sitting between her and Marceline.

"I regret nothing."

"Keep your eyes on the road."

"Can't help it," she stares at her rearview mirror without shame and at the same time drifts on the highway. "Your roomie is actually pretty sexy."

Marceline snorts. "_Marshall Lee_?"

"Let's not kid ourselves."

Marceline glances at the back of the van. Marshall Lee sits on boxes of equipment and converses with the guys like he's one of them. They're probably talking about amps or shaving or man-things like that. Yeah, she supposes Keila has a point.

"I always thought he looked like my brother from another mother."

"Your physical resemblance is striking," Bubblegum agrees.

"It must be the shirts."

"Must be."

If she doesn't think about their old fights and the shadier parts of their relationship, Marceline can almost feel totally at ease with the princess again. It's surprisingly pleasant.

"You two are coming next time we're in town, yeah?" Keila asks in a way that leaves no room for vague answers.

"Definitely."

"For shizzle."

"Bonnie… stop."

The Scream Queens drop off Marceline and Marshall Lee first. The vans skids into a stop at the bridge over her cave, just before dawn.

"Hey Marceline," Keila says in an aside and she has got to be the only vampire that doesn't defer to her as _Vampire Queen_. Marshall Lee excluded, of course. "I approve. You go shack it up, girl."

Marceline laughs at Bubblegum's expression. "Ew, I'm not trying to do that."

"Huh. Could've fooled me."

At this time Marshall Lee chooses to appear behind her seat and say "Mar-mar. Let's go, _Friends With Benefits _is on TiVo*."

"Your timing is crap," Marceline sighs.

Keila is smug. "Get outta my van you make me sick."

"Thanks for the lift," he tells her. "Nice ride."

"You should hear the horn."

The Scream Queens plus Bubblegum drive off towards Candy Kingdom, waving rock hands out the window and honking (the horn now sounds like an electric guitar). Marceline and Marshall Lee wave for a while; then the van is gone.

"They're cool."

"Way cool."

"You quit all that?" Marshall Lee asks her curiously.

"I just wasn't feeling the rocker life anymore," Marceline admits.

"But you're so good."

It's an earnest compliment and it's coming from Marshall Lee. Tonight is ending fantastically; Marceline grins. "I'll tell you about it over _Friends With Benefits_."

"Okay." Then she floats past him, but he suddenly stops her. "Hold up."

Marshall Lee takes her face in both hands.

He says "I wanna try something."

Déjà vu déjà vu déjà vu.

She's extra-aware of the size of his hands and the calluses on his fingertips. She knows the feel of them from before when he was holding her hand in a meaningless platonic way but what feels strange now is that she's _anticipating _something even if his face isn't even that close to hers. This is so eerily like that one dream it's ridiculous.

Seconds feel like hours and Marceline silently chastises herself for freaking out but Marshall Lee is about to say (or maybe do?) something and she can't help saying "_Oh shit_."

The corner of his mouth twitches. "I was gonna say… thanks…"

He deviated. But from _what_?

"For being so radical all the time," Marshall Lee continues. "And like everyone else said tonight, you are a strong independent vampire who don't need no man, even if it's been… what, three or four years since you had any—"

"Who asked you for a pep talk!" she knocks his hands away. "And that's so not what you were gonna try at all!"

"Would you look at the time," Marshall Lee flies off to catch his show and Marceline promises herself to find Marshall Lee's man-diary, how dare he sidetrack her. She flies after him, down to the house in the cave they both call 'home'.

It's been fifteen days since Marshall Lee moved in and Marceline hasn't had lucid dreams.

**\/\/\/\/**

There's a new message on her answering machine; the green light flashes. Marceline presses the play button and she can just barely hear over the noise of the TV and Marshall Lee making popcorn in the microwave.

"_Hey Mar-Mar_," Ash's voice says. She makes to delete the message – how does he have her number?—but then he says "_I just wanted to say that I'm really sorry._"

Did hell just freeze over because this is the one guy who wouldn't regret stealing candy form a baby.

"_I know I've been a real jerk to you—_" Marceline smirks at this. "_And I know it's not gonna make up for everything but I got your bear back_."

Wait, what?

Is he drunk?

_"I'm not up to anything I swear. I just wanna give it back, and apologize to your face – you're still really hot by the way—'cause I feel really bad. Haha, about time, right?_

_"What do you say? I'll take you to dinner?_"

Ash found Hambo. No freakin' way.

But if that's true she won't care about sitting through a lame apology from him because this is _Hambo_, her most valuable possession on earth that isn't lost forever after all.

"Hey." She feels Marshall Lee pat her head. "You spaced out."

His touch is static. Her finger slips.

She deletes the message and Ash's number.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

**A/N:** But of course Ash is up to something xD Extra late extra long chapter; how was it? Leave a review I like those!

**s/n: **Shit goes on at night anywhere if you go out but I'm sure everyone knows that. Take care y'all.

* Gambino lyrics, _Friends With Benefits_, and TiVo references. I guess there could be channels in Ooo that show human-TV reruns. I'd watch that.

Thanks for those reviews last chapter!

**DoctorD**: Awh. Ty. Marceline is a babe on the show so yeah I want Marshall Lee to look cool too.

**Marceleeregina**: No Marshall Lee doesn't remember yet haha. Idk he probably writes rap stuff in the book.

**monkey**: They were just gonna hang out… it's whatever you think they'd do :P


	7. Tongue Tied

**Tongue Tied**

_Take me to your best friend's house_

_Going around this roundabout oh yeah..._

_Don't take me tongue-tied_

- Grouplove

* * *

She may or may not have called him in the end but that doesn't matter now; Ash's number is gone.

"What's with your face?" Marshall Lee asks.

"Nothing," Marceline answers quickly.

He frowns. Are they already that deep in the friendzone that he can _read_ her expression?

Marceline thinks about asking him to come with her to meet Ash. She dismisses the idea immediately; friends don't put friends in the middle of awkward situations. Marceline leaves her phone and her ex-boyfriend problems and takes Marshall Lee into the living room.

"We're missing the best part," she says.

It turns out that watching intimate scenes of a romantic comedy with Marshall Lee isn't awkward at all. Maybe they _are_ that deep in the friendzone.

"This is your fave part?" He looks up at her. She's lying on the couch and he's on the floor leaning against it (the seats are too small for two tall and totally hot bodies). "Someone's a perv."

"She's giving legit pointers," Marceline argues on behalf of the heroine. "See, you don't just go down there all gung-ho about it."

"It's a vagina, not rice paper!"

"Which you eat _carefully_, by the way!"

"Marcy," he says suddenly. He's staring at the TV like it's showing some great revelation rather than a sex scene. "What if I'm a…"

"A..?"

"Ah, it's too horrible. I can't say it."

Marshall Lee is almost distressed when she says "A _virgin_?"

"I can't remember getting laid!"

"Aw," she snickers but his perfectly unruly head of hair is close to her hip; she ruffles that in comfort. "So what if you are? That won't make you any less fly, you fly guy, you."

"I _am_ pretty fine," he agrees. He pats her hand on his head. "Good talk, Mar-mar."

"Why do you keep calling me that?"

"Because you let me." His grin tells her he doesn't care if Ash came up with that nickname first. Then the morning-after scene comes up and Marshall Lee's attention turns to lip-syncing lines. "'_I act all tough and I talk all tough, but really... It's just a front to protect—' _hey she reminds me of—"

"'_What are you my fucking therapist now_?'" Marceline quotes dryly.

"Who hurt chu, Jamie?" He ignores her and directs loving concern at her TV. "Did you have an Ash in your life?"

Marceline rolls her eyes. "Wow. There's _no way_ you've never been laid."

"Marshall Jr. I think she's laughing at us."

"Don't talk to your crotch!"

Marceline tries to imagine a smooth-talking Marshall Lee putting the moves on a girl or maybe three but imagining that is hard when she has him in a headlock saying _grow the freak up _and he's pinching her nose saying _but_ _he's a part of me_.

But she supposes he could still hold a girl or maybe three with those hands if he feels like it, and call the next day and the day after that or maybe not. If he feels like it.

Marceline wonders if he's ever had an ex named

"Ashley."

"What?" Marshall Lee asks, confused. His throat vibrates against her arm.

"Ashley. Does the name ring a bell?"

"Unhand me," he demands and she lets go because it's disconcerting to feel an Adam's apple bob anyway. "And no it doesn't. Should it?"

"Dunno. Just guessing," Marceline admits.

"Shh. We're missing the best part."

As they watch the two leads reunite in a train station and get together forreal-forreal, Marceline wonders if physicality really is the bane of all platonic friendships. It would make applicable sense to her past relationships especially with

"So is Peebles your ex or what?" Marshall Lee asks.

Marceline doesn't know why she tells him half the things she tells him but she just _does_. It's easy.

"Actually, we…"

He could have made a dozen suggestive passes at her tonight all in the spirit of jokes, and she wouldn't have cared if he did because that's just how guy friends are – but he didn't.

They must really be that deep in the friendzone. Marceline thinks they could stay this way.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

Lumpy Space Princess is throwing a bonfire party at the beach and like always, Marceline arrives fashionably late. She brings her axe bass for customary party rockage. She also brings Marshall Lee.

Who gets surrounded by females of all shapes and species in beach attire the moment they land. When did he get so famous again?

"Don't bite," Marceline calls out, distancing herself from the throng. Marceline doesn't do throngs.

"I might bite," Marshall Lee says honestly. Engagement Ring Princess takes his arm, all giggly-like. Lollipop Girl takes the other arm and between the half-dozen other chicks around him asking how he's doing Marshall Lee looks very pimping indeed.

Finn waves from the bonfire; Marceline floats over and seats herself on the log between him and Jake. "Yo."

"Marshmallow?" he offers her a half-burnt piece on a stick like he doesn't know she eats (or rather used to eat) brains for breakfast. Silly boy.

"No thanks," Marceline says.

"Where's Marshall Lee?" Jake asks with a s'mores tower in his dog-hands.

"Being a pimpster."

"Cool."

"What's a pimpster?" Finn asks.

"A very special kinda guy," Jake says solemnly and with utter respect.

"Are you cool with that Marceline?"

A strange question; she shrugs. "Sure… I guess? You guys found that book yet?"

"Still working on it," Finn says. "It's tough beans man."

"That thing doesn't wanna get found." Jake agrees.

"But it's gonna _get_ found!"

"Yeah!" And they bump fists wholeheartedly.

Bubblegum joins them. Her pink maxi dress is ankle-length tonight how scandalous.

"Marshmallows?" She offers Marceline a bowlful.

"No thanks."

"They're red."

So they are. Aw, the princess must've gotten those with her in mind. Marceline's mouth curls one-sidedly and so does Bubblegum's; this exchange is devoid of tension.

"Whoa are you guys friends again?" Finn asks.

"When did that happen!" Jake exclaims.

"Jake shouldn't you be with Lady?" Bubblegum puts a hand on her hip.

"Nah she said she'd stay with the pups tonight," Jake says while chewing. Marceline and Bubblegum shake their heads in reproval because Jake of all people should be wise to that by now. "What?"

"It's a trap," Marceline explains. "She's testing you."

"She said it was cool!"

"She really wants you with her and the kids."

"But—"

"Do you or do you not want to sleep on the couch!"

"What she said," Bubblegum agrees.

"What's wrong with the couch?" Finn asks.

"Oh." Jake says, completely enlightened. "Well then Finn should go over to Flame Princess's."

"She said it was cool!"

"Yeah… it's not," Marceline says. And after considerable muttering the heroes take an early leave and go off to visit their respective girlfriends.

Which leaves Marceline and Bubble sitting together. Making small talk like everyone else around the fire is easier than expected.

"It's that awful _Mind Games _book," Bubblegum says.

"Thank Grod we set them straight," Marceline says.

"Saving relationships one advice at a time."

"We really are."

They're not at the righteous-fist-bumping stage yet but they're at the smiling-together stage.

"Where's Marshall Lee?" Bubblegum asks.

"Why is that the first thing anyone asks me," Marceline sighs. "But he's over there somewhere being popular."

"Oh I see," Bubblegum spots that black head of hair in the middle of Engagement Ring Princess Turtle Princess Toast Princess and whoever the other humanoid chicks are. "Of course the girls will talk to him, the male-to-female ratio of this party is quite skewed."

"Nah they just think he's cute," Marceline says; sociological observation isn't her strong point.

"I'm rather curious as to why he resembles you," Bubblegum confesses.

"Me too. Suspense."

Bubblegum drums her fingers. She's going to say something and she's thinking about how to say it. Marceline waits.

"You should come over for tea sometime."

Marceline the Vampire Queen doesn't do tea parties.

"It'll be chill for shizzle," the princess adds.

Bonnibel Bubblegum doesn't do slang.

"Sure," Marceline says. "If you come play basketball with me and the guys."

"Most def."

She won't tell Bubblegum what kind of handsign she's making.

And just like that, the cold-shoulder war is completely over.

A humanoid bear approaches them. He's tall and dressed in hipster clothing and he greets them with total chillness. "Hey ladies."

Marceline has met him before at ridiculously varied party locations. He does life right. "_Party Pat_? What are you doing up here?"

"Oh you know. Party hopping. Wanna dance?"

Some girls tell their friends _hold my purse _and Marceline tells Bubblegum "Hold my bass."

"Don't bite!" Bubblegum calls out.

From what he tells her, Party Pat and the party bears have reached new levels of celebration tolerance and most shindigs just don't give them a rush anymore.

"How's this one for ya?" she asks as they're dancing to eclectic surfer music in a small crowd.

"Too tame. Party God is more cray-cray," he replies, surprisingly _not_ yet breaking out the big famous dance moves.

"Tell LSP."

"I righteously will. Funny that I ran into you here Marceline…" He's kind of a man-sized Hambo now that she thinks about it. His face looks soft to touch. "What's the party scene like in Night-O-Sphere?"

"Uhh…" Should she really give this guy reason to party with flesh-eating banana-throwing demonfolk? "Freaky-nasty?"

"Excellent."

"Dude it's like, your monster-gut crib but with hellfire. And ten times more stank."

"More excellent!"

She's pretty sure that means Party Pat will lead his people to their untimely, party-philiac doom in hell. There goes the party bear species.

"It's your funeral," Marceline says as Pat spins her easily like the dance-pro he is.

"You know it."

Party Pat whips out a cardboard flap out of nowhere and everyone else cheers and makes room because surely he's about to break it down in a very excellent way.

But the music stops. Lumpy Space Princess pushes her way to the center and snatches the cardboard away. "Oh no you don't Party Pat this is _my_ party!"

Everyone says a disappointed _Aw_.

"Chillax, we're gonna shake it," Party Pat reassures her.

Everyone murmurs agreeably.

"Oh we'll lumpin' shake it alright," LSP says. "It's time for a slow dance! Marceline get up and _sang_, girl!"

Well she shouldn't really be surprised because this happens frequently whether it's her idea to sing or not but Marceline still says "Uhh…"

The cheers are back with everyone grabbing a partner or three.

"Psst," LSP pulls her down by the arm and whispers secretively. "Make it slow and sexy. I want Billy all up in these lumps."

"Gross. Gotcha."

Marceline doesn't do big-time concerts anymore but a bonfire party is no problem. She takes her axe bass and lands on a decent-sized boulder and clears her throat.

"_I don't see nothin' wrong_

_With a little bump and gri-iiind_…"

She can do impromptu serenading in her sleep. Dozens of slow-dancers before her sway around the bonfire (even Bubblegum is dancing with her princess girlfriends, suggestive lyrics notwithstanding); no expectations, just appreciation. This is the kind of crowd she likes best.

Marshall Lee could be neck to cheek with some girl and also giving Marceline a thumbs-up of song approval but he's not in the crowd (LSP is definitely giving her appreciative looks from behind Billy though). The fire flickers; it makes everyone nondescript figures in the half-dark. But Marceline still feels that that pointy-eared loser is somewhere else entirely, and it's not dancing he's doing.

If Marshall Lee were singing with her right now it would be almost like that one dream.

"_So baby bring your body to me_…"

Romantic feels will surely blossom in this romantic ambience. It's cool to be the one bringing those feels about. Just as Marceline goes into the second song, though, she feels a splatter on her bare shoulder. Then another, and another, and a billion-gajillion.

Marceline stops the singing and the strumming to say "What the freak?!"

Suddenly the skies aren't clear anymore, they're pouring down rain.

"No no no no nooo!" LSP cries out. The huge bonfire is promptly extinguished.

"How sudden!" Bubblegum exclaims somewhere in the dark. "It's almost supernatural!"

The speakers and décor are beyond saving, and guests quickly scramble for cover.

"My dress!"

"My hair!"

"My party!" LSP takes a vengeful stance and shakes a fist at the sky. "YOU HATER! CURSE YOU PARTY GOOOOOD!"

"GUYS," Marceline hammers on her bass for that loud, lingering, ear-catching sound. The scrambling-around stops even if the downpour doesn't. "RAINDANCE PARTY."

Any decent musician should know how to improv and this is definitely improv not that Marceline ever doubts her music skills anyway. Especially not when she's up in the air working crazy tantalizing sound waves out of her axe bass and making puny mortals down below stomp their little feet out. The good people of Ooo will always party, given half an excuse.

She digs that everyone hollers along so loudly she can't hear herself.

"_SHAKE IT LIKE A POLAROID PICTURE._"

"ROCK AT MY PARTIES," Party Pat shouts somewhere in the dancing frenzy.

"YOU ARE A GODDESS," LSP adds.

Perhaps it's good that they didn't raindance for too long and got pneumonia and died; she'd be somewhat to blame. The rebel festivities are cut short when thunder and lightning and ocean waves and wind make deafening _BOOM_s like it's time for the rapture.

Party God (or is it just bad weather?) wins this round; everyone scrambles for home.

"THIS! ISN'T! OVER!" LSP concedes, shrieking one more time at the heavens.

Over the stampede Marceline thinks _Well that escalated quickly_.

The rain starts to sting. Gale winds make it a pain to keep wet hair out of her face. Her bass is slippery to hold. It's definitely time to find shelter, or maybe this ridiculous storm can just blow her wee wee wee all the way back home instead. Marceline isn't scared of the elements but that doesn't mean they won't give her killer pneumonia.

Just how will she find Marshall Lee, exactly?

Then familiar hands drape an unbuttoned plaid shirt over her shoulders and it seems that he found her first.

"You nailed it!" Marshall Lee tells her, barely audible and hair whipping about.

Marceline can't resist saying "And what did _you_ nail!"

"Shut up!"

But they can at least agree that they're both soaked to the bone and that talking is best done when away from a thunderstorm.

"I'm not cold!" Marceline says as they following migrating throngs of party goers into the woods.

"Your shirt is white!" Marshall Lee answers.

His white undershirt clings to wet skin. "And yours is..?"

"_I'm_ not wearing a polka dot bra, flashing the masses."

Marceline wants the plaid on her after all. "Marshy you do care."

"Sure I do. But why _neon pink dots_?"

"They're strawberries."

He snickers. She'll address that later; the great dilemma right now is whether to make a run for it, or to wait the storm out in wet misery, or to steal the nearest car.

"You know," Marshall Lee suggests casually. "The tree fort is like five minutes away."

"So it is," Marceline wipes dripping bangs out of her eyes yet again.

"We're victims."

"Hurricane victims."

"Finn will save us."

"Let's go get saved."

The tree fort becomes _three_ minutes away when they're racing really bad weather.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

No one is home. Which means Finn is still with Flame Princess, and Jake is bonding with the Raini-corndog litter via BMO.

They stand in the tree fort living room dripping rainwater all over the place. Marshall Lee slicks his hair back to see properly and his sights land on her face.

"You look like hell."

"You too."

Finn's bathroom is mysteriously filled with rubber duckies from ceiling to floor, so they take turns showering in Jake's. The wet clothes go on a ceiling fan (Finn and Jake do their laundry old-school). They're taking liberties in this crib and the owners will let them get away with it because they're just chill like that. Also, Marceline used to own this treehouse anyway.

"Ew," Marshall Lee walks in on her squeezing into Finn's blue hero-shorts.

"They fit!" Marceline snaps. Finn's shirt is comfortably loose as well.

"You're sick."

"You're naked." She waves a second pair of shorts from Finn's closet. "They're reaaally comfy."

Marshall Lee is too good for little-boy-shorts but not too good for the towel wrapped around his waist. He slaps the shorts away. "Girl please. My man-junk needs space."

"Oh Finn has space alright—" Marshall Lee's disgusted expression is hilarious and Marceline quickly adds "Kidding hey how about these PJs?"

"I can dress myself _mom_," he elbows her out of the closet.

Marceline rolls her eyes. She'll never have kids but if she did have one as petty as Marshall Lee she'd paddle the sass out of him and make the world a better place. She wonders if anyone ever actually _paddled_ Marshall Lee, that sounds like the kind of foolishness he'd be into maybe.

"You missed the slowdance," she says, a little accusingly.

His naked back is turned to her as he rummages for clothing. Doesn't she have a scar like that at the base of her spine? "No I didn't."

"Mm-hmm."

He glances at her from aside. "Okay maybe a little but I came back to hear you. Bros before hoes."

And suddenly her interest is piqued.

"Ah-hah. Who was it!" Marshall Lee shrugs but Marceline won't be denied gossip. "C'mon I won't judge."

"Nothing happened."

"Marshyyy."

"Nothing happened!"

Marceline isn't above wheedling. "I tell you everything!"

Marshall Lee turns around with exasperation and patched-up sweatpants. "I took a walk with Jenny. The lollipop chick. Happy?"

Marceline's grin fades. "The _red one_?"

The redheaded red-clad rosy-faced talks-with-a-red-hot-accent one? Marshall Lee nods.

"Did you _bite.._?" Marceline's brows furrow.

"No_.._?"

"Oh." That's okay then. Then Marceline asks "Did you kiss?"

"…Not really."

So Jenny and Marceline were one strong, untimely urge away from getting lips chewed off and shunned for decades, respectively.

_Oh no he di-ent._

Marceline punches Marshall Lee on the arm, hard. "Dumbass you could've eaten her!"

"Nothing happened!" Marshall Lee repeats. "And I didn't know she was gonna do that!"

"Yeah right!" Marceline punches him again. "Any color, she could've been any other color!"

"I didn't. Bite her." He grits his teeth.

"Dude," Marceline claps both hands on his cheeks, staring him down. "You tellin' me a red-hot smoking-hot red chick all up in your face isn't _tempting_?"

Marshall Lee stares right back. But he sighs in the end. "Touché."

"No dallying with the edible babes," she tells him seriously. "Not while you live with me."

"Okay."

"One bite would ruin my rep."

"Okay."

One bite would also set a bad example for hungry vampire folk up north but Marceline won't chastise too much, it's not her style.

"Sorry," Marshall Lee tells her. "You kicked ass tonight by the way."

"Thanks."

"Who was the bear?"

Any irritation about him semi-ditching her disappears.

"You mean Pat?" He shrugs and Marceline cracks a smile. "Marshall Lee are you _jealous_?"

He scoffs. "You see I've always wanted someone to spin me around."

"Well I've always wanted girls to crowd me."

"I guess we're even."

"I guess we are."

Marceline smells rainwater, shampoo, and guy-skin. Being in close proximity suddenly feels unbearable. Childish or not Marshall Lee is still shirtless and smells like soap.

Marceline was going to say _Clothe your hussy ass_ or something like that but words don't come out. Maybe she's struck speechless by the fact that for a moment there, she considered shoving Marshall Lee back outside to see what he looks like dripping wet again.

Marceline's voice comes back and it croaks "Abs."

He gives her a strange look. "_What_?"

Wow, Marceline is so disappointed in herself it's not even funny.

"I'm gonna go… make a sandwich…"

"Hey make me one too!"

She's too tongue-tied to tell him _shut up make your own_.

As she floats down the hallway Marceline reminds herself that finding someone attractive is no big deal. But she's still kinda sad that she's not so different from those other ogling females after all. She almost feels guilty.

_Well he does look like me,_ Marceline thinks wryly as she stares outside through the kitchen window. Thunder and lightning and hail are aplenty and a few tree branches fly around. She hopes Schwabl isn't having a nervous breakdown back in the cave and shredding all the curtains. Speaking of things she'd like to shred—

Marceline slaps her own cheek. Her thoughts do _not_ need to escalate to ridiculous levels like tonight's weather. Maybe they shouldn't have watched _Friends With Benefits_ twice in a row the other night.

All is well again by the time she makes the sandwich. Marceline concludes that it's okay if she saw Marshall Lee in a different light back there. Friends discover new things about each other all the time.

Ironically, the power goes out and everything goes dark.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

**A/N:** Oh wow a blackout what could happen besides moving this ship along. :D Crits/reviews appreciated!

* I ripped off _Friends With Benefits_ quotes and R. Kelly/OutKast lyrics. No shamee

THANKS for those reviews last chapter y'all so cool.

**For These Texts**: So like… now. xP

**monkey**: me too mayne

**Doctor**: Ahaha thanks? Idk I can't help your sleep problem so I guess sweet dreams.


	8. Dominos

**Dominos**

_These girls fall like dominos, dominos._

- The Big Pink

* * *

The tree fort is pitch black inside, except when lightning illuminates the place for brief moments. Outside, the storm rages on.

And all the way in the kitchen Marceline calls out "Hey check the circuit panel!"

No response.

"Marshall Lee?"

Just silence.

"Who am I kidding you can't fix anything," she mutters and turns to go do it herself.

Her face comes within millimeters to a giant floating upside-down horse head*.

"WHOA," Marceline yelps and smacks it with the sandwich in her hand; the horse head drops to the ground and there's a body attached to it.

He lands with a _thud_ but he's laughing hysterically and Marceline knows Marshall Lee is underneath that mask. Of course he'd try to spook her during a blackout.

"Seriously?" She kicks him in the hip. "That trick is tired!"

"But your face," he says, laughing on the floor dressed in Finn's patched-up sweats and shirt. The mask over his head looks ridiculous, even more so with sandwich remains splattered all over it.

"What is that even _for_?"

"Dunno. It was in Finn and Jake's room," Marshall Lee shrugs. She'd tell him not to take people's things but they already helped themselves to Finn's closet. "Hey, you don't think Jake and Lady..? I mean, it's a horse mask…"

Horror dawns on her face, and probably on his too.

"_DUDE_."

"_ARGH GET IT OFF ME_."

They don't know if the mask actually is for role play but Marshall Lee tugs at it like it's on fire going '_eeeew'_ the whole time. Marceline gets down on one knee to pull the mask off. It won't move.

"Is it stuck?" Marshall Lee asks. His hands keep tugging. His voice is muffled but she can hear his alarm. "_Is it stuck_?"

Her snicker turns into laughter. "That's what you get!"

"Shut up!"

"Hold still!"

In the end they figure out the straps at the back of the horse mask; Marceline lifts it away and Marshall Lee's upset face is freed.

"Had fun?" she smirks.

"My innocence. It's gone."

Marceline doesn't know what she was so flustered about earlier because killer abs or no Marshall Lee is just an overgrown child and he's totally harmless. She laughs and ruffles his hair.

"Oh Marshy."

Some light streams in through the windows and under damp black hair Marceline can see that Marshall Lee's eyes are an arresting shade of green.

He smiles and they light up his face.

Her fingers drop.

"Be right back," Marceline says.

Even his confused face looks good in the dark. "Where are you going? The kitchen's right here."

"Ha. Ha." Marceline thrusts the horse mask into his lap. "I'm gonna go mess with the circuit."

"I'll do it," he offers.

She sticks out her tongue, obnoxiously. "Little girls stay in the kitchen."

"You're sooo funny," Marshall Lee rolls his eyes at her and Marceline hopes he doesn't think she's avoiding him for some reason. Why would she?

Marceline knows her way around the tree fort even in total darkness. She did build it with Ash, after all. She finds the closet with the circuit panel and flicks switches around without success. This place is in total power outage.

Marceline keeps flicking longer than necessary.

But she can't avoid Marshall Lee all night even if so many little things about him make her brain hurt.

_Just wait_, she tells herself. _Just wait a couple weeks, he's getting better…_

But Marceline never was good with waiting. Frankly she'd love to magically smack Marshall Lee's amnesia away and ask who are you how did you find me and why are you so much more fine (it's not fair when they have the same face).

Well anyway. Marceline floats back down to the living room and finds it decked with aroma candles.

"What the…"

"You like?" Marshall Lee waves from the couch. He really does like making himself at home in someone else's crib. "Really brings out natural vibes, I think."

"I do like." Marceline takes a moment to sincerely admire. 99 candles aren't a fire hazard or anything. "You did all this in ten minutes?"

"_And_ I made a sandwich."

She leans against the back of the sofa and watches him flip through _Home Living_ magazines. "Wow, you are definitely housewife material."

"I'm bored," Marshall Lee protests. She lets him pull her down beside him. "Let's do stuff."

"What kinda stuff?"

Marceline and Marshall Lee take aversion from boredom seriously. What _can _you do when there's a storm outside and power outage inside and you're not even in your own house anyway? They mull things over in silence. Marceline's leg dangles over the arm of the sofa. Her back leans against Marshall Lee's shoulder as he reads _Home Living _and chews on his precious sandwich.

"Want some?" he offers. "It's like, everything red in their fridge."

Marceline smells at least tomato bread tomatoes and ketchup and her nose crinkles. He wasn't kidding about _everything red_. "No thanks. Tomatoes make me lucid."

"No way."

"Yeah way."

When did they get so companionable?

She should be wary but it feels alright. He's the kind of bro who won't make lewd proposals when they're stuck indoors on a rainy night.

Instead, Marshall Lee suggests "Hey this cake pop recipe looks badass."

She snickers. "Sometimes I worry about you."

"I'm comfortable with my sexuality."

"Yeah I saw."

"Marceline," He gasps. His arm shifts and she knows he's looking down at the top of her head. Marceline looks up. "You're jelly-jelly-donut of my swag."

"Go read your lame magazine."

"I am. And so my swag grows ever-stronger."

If he knows that the thought of the gaggle of girls at the party is making her frown, he says nothing about it. There is nothing quite like this long comfortable silence between them, the easy contact of her back against him. Marshall Lee will go back home wherever that may be soon enough but for now, he's Bestest Bro-Roomie (_Broomie_?) #1.

Marceline thinks about nothing in particular, just _sits_ there with her eyes closed. She spaces out probably for a good while but then she feels really relaxing sensations on her head.

Marshall Lee's fingers absentmindedly fiddle with her hair. How strange and uncalled for and he shouldn't stop. She murmurs.

"What?" Marshall Lee asks, not in guilt but rather curiosity.

"Nothing. Carry on."

"Mar-mar?"

"Yeah?"

"I just realized something. I don't know how to tell you this but I'll just say it anyway…"

Marceline's eyes open. The room glows orange in numerous candlelight and smells like aromatic wax. What Marshall Lee tells her is

"… you need a new couch.".

She won't turn to look at him, he's still working finger-magic through her hair. "Huh?"

"It's hard as a rock. This one we're on is _heaven_ compared to yours." Marceline starts to protest but Marshall Lee continues. "I'd still sleep on it and stuff. But you should forreal think about getting a new one."

"But then I'd have to move it."

"I'll get it for you."

Conscientiously, she asks "It's that bad?"

"You deserve better," he tells her. Which means that yes, her couch is rock-hard, and that she's had it for so long her butt doesn't realize when it's sitting on stone.

"Okay," Marceline says. She'd probably agree to a lot of things right now, she's that relaxed. "You're so real, Marshall Lee."

"That's how I do." Then she hears paper shuffling; Marshall Lee puts down _Home Living_. "Hey while we're keeping it real…"

How much more real can you get than telling someone their couch sucks?

"… I heard you were telling stories about me."

They're talking to empty space, not face-to-face. Marceline takes on a strange expression freely. "Huh?"

"I was talking to Wildberry and some other princesses tonight." At this she scoffs. _Of course you were_. "They said I'm just like how you described me. And you never told them I was _real_."

Oh. That.

That one time she made up a gender-bender Land-of-Aaa story and all this began.

"What was _that_ about, hmm?" Marshall Lee nudges her.

Marceline told herself weeks ago that she'd address this gray area, but she never did because saying '_You might be the guy of my dreams'_ sounded really really dumb and just as unlikely. Not so unlikely now though, now that they've spent two weeks living in perfectly imperfect twin harmony like they've been doing it for years.

"Um…"

"No judgment," he says. "You know me."

Marshall Lee won't stay amnesiac forever, whether she tells him now later or never.

"Mar-mar?" Marshall Lee nudges her again. She's overthinking this.

Marceline tells him now.

"But what if I _don't_ know you?"

Marshall Lee stops messing with her hair. It's his turn to say "Huh?"

"I dreamed about you, though."

"_Huh_?"

Marshall Lee's expression is strange in candlelight. She can't blame him. Marceline doesn't like how he stares at her, though. "Hey you said you wouldn't judge!"

"I'm not, I'm not," he replies hastily. "I wanna know."

"It's super weird."

"Weird is okay."

She tells him. They face each other and he listens to her talk and if her cheeks burn from talking about fanfiction he doesn't make fun of her for it this time.

"I went over to Ice King's place one night like six months ago…"

Marceline explains story time with the princesses and Ice King. She talks about the strange dreams afterwards. She doesn't want to admit that she made BFFs with her imaginary man-self but she does. And of course she'd let the real thing crash at her place. He has explaining to do.

Marshall Lee in real life listens to her stumble over words.

"… and that's what 'that' was about," Marceline concludes. The candles are half-melted.

Of all the things to say to 'that', he settles for "Whoa. Bizarre."

"Way bizarre," she agrees. "You know what weirded me out the most?"

"What?"

"You knew me too."

She still remembers the way he said her name, that bizarre first time.

Marshall Lee stays quiet for too long. He's pensive. It's unnerving. Then at last he says "So that makes me the man of your dreams?"

"Not even," Marceline retorts but his grin is infectious.

"You should've caught me when I fell for you!"

"That was _your_ fault!"

"Yeah but now we're both confused." Marshall Lee scratches the back of his head. "How come you dreamed about me? How do I know you?"

He mutters about how maybe he was fantasizing too and Marceline indignantly says "I wasn't fantasizing."

His voice teases. "Don't be ashamed. It's a sign. We're _meant_ to be BFFs."

"Shut up and get better."

"Marceline," he says, grin faded. "You're serious, right? You're not just messing with my head? Because this is some deep shit."

"I'm not. Forreal."

"You should've told me at the hospital."

"You would've freaked out."

"You don't know that!"

Marceline smirks because they both know she's right. "As if. You wouldn't have let me take you home. Remember your stranger-danger test?"

Marshall Lee looks thoughtful.

"Actually, I probably would've let you take me anywhere."

Marceline feels a facial nerve twitch. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

Marshall Lee shrugs and reaches for _Home Living_ again but Marceline won't have none of that. She tugs on his sleeve. "Tell me."

"I don't wanna."

"The Bro Code compels you," Marceline demands.

"Not the Bro Code," Marshall Lee groans.

Her eyes narrow; he already owes her explanations for two weeks ago and for the face-holding two days ago. "Be real, dude."

"We clicked," Marshall Lee shrugs. Her face falls – what was she expecting to hear?—and he laughs. "No, really, it was crazy. I woke up at the hospital and when I saw you I got all these vibes. It was freaking cosmic. You didn't even have to say anything. I just _knew _we were gonna be tight."

"So you _imprinted _on me?" Marceline exclaims. "Like a freaking duck-hatchling?"

"Why you gotta make it sound lame?"

"We'll fix you. Starting tomorrow." She pats his head. "Good talk, Marshy."

"I'm not a kid," he reminds her.

"Let's go plant booby traps."

"Okay."

She starts to get up. He grabs her wrist urgently; his touch definitely isn't a child's.

"Wait," Marshall Lee tells her. "Don't move."

He stares at her for so long not actually doing anything and finally, irritated, Marceline asks "_What_?"

"You look pretty in candlelight," Marshall Lee says with such surprise that she's kind of offended.

"Wow, thanks."

"Like, _really_ pretty."

"I get it, don't be insulting!"

He leans forward. She doesn't move.

Marshall Lee inspects her face with frank curiosity. "I can't get over how awesome your face is."

"That's cuz it looks like yours," she rolls her eyes. "You narcissist,"

The corners of his mouth turn up and at this proximity Marceline can see exactly what's so appealing about her overgrown child of a roommate. He's hella fine. But to be honest so is she and that doesn't affect them in the slightest even if mere inches separate them from Tier 2.

He does _not_ need to be this close but Marceline doesn't mind.

"Yeah. Must be," Marshall Lee says quietly, with a faint scent of tomatoes on him. His voice is deep when quiet. Then he flies off all enigmatic-like.

_How dare he leave her hangin'._

Marceline can't help but be a hater and grumble "You think you're soo smooth."

She needs to stop expecting him to say

Well what _does_ she expect to hear him say?

It occurs to Marceline that they've stop being real with each other three topics ago.

It also occurs to her much later, remembering the half-eaten tomato sandwich on the coffee table, that perhaps Marshall Lee was lucid and that's why he stared so strangely at her mouth.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

As inexplicably as it came, the storm dies down to a drizzle before dawn. Marceline and Marshall Lee leave a note for Finn and Jake about borrowing an umbrella, and an intricate array of booby traps all over the tree fort.

"I gotta go to Ash's," Marceline says as they're flying over flooded grasslands. "Come with me."

"Wait what?" Marshall Lee exclaims.

"He found my bear, that's all," she explains. "Can you believe he wanted to have dinner over it?"

"You know that means he wants to get back with you, right?"

"And that's why you'll be the best cock-block ever, right?"

"Well when you put it like that..."

Ash still lives in a trailer at the edge of the woods. His area is relatively dry, thanks to wizard-tricks. Marceline and Marshall Lee fly down to the trailer steps and knock on the door.

Ash takes a long time to answer. He opens the door dressed in PJs and his sights fall first on Marceline.

"Mar-mar," his jaw drops. "What're you..?"

"Hey Ash," Marceline says. "We won't take long. I'm here for Hambo."

"You wanna come inside?"

"Nah," Marshall Lee interrupts smoothly. "We're just dropping by."

Ash looks completely surprised to find them sharing an umbrella. "You. What're you doing here?"

"Cock-blocking."

Marceline passes off a snort as a cough. There's someone talking inside the trailer that makes Ash look away for a moment.

"No need," he looks back at Marshall Lee with equal smugness. "I've got company over."

"Really."

"Really."

"Guys," Marceline says. "Can we make this quick."

"Sure thing babe," Ash gives her an easy smile and disappears inside.

"'_Babe'_?" Marshall Lee lifts an eyebrow and Marceline shrugs.

Ash takes his sweet time. It's almost dawn when he reappears with Hambo. The bear is just as frazzled as Marceline remembers it. She can't resist holding it tightly when Ash hands it over.

Instantly, she feels a familiar warmth.

"Hey," Ash says. "Sorry I hustled it for a wand. That was dumb."

"Yeah."

"It was a pain, but I found it at a bazaar."

"It's cool, Ash. Don't worry about it."

"I could still take you out sometime," he offers. Then he glances at Marshall Lee. "Unless you're with _this_ guy?"

"Don't worry about it," Marshall Lee says.

"You have company over, remember?" Marceline says.

"Oh. Right."

They leave. Marceline is ecstatic.

Oh Grod, the sentimental value of this thing is priceless. Marshall Lee knows all about the Hambo thing. He says nothing about the irrepressible smile on her face or the way she holds Hambo to her chest the whole way back.

"I'm done for tonight," Marceline tells him when they're back at her house. Schwabl did indeed rip up the curtains during the storm but nothing can dampen her mood.

"Me too," he yawns. "Cock-blocking is hard work."

"You were pro."

Marceline suddenly has an idea. Reuniting with Hambo is making her extra-generous right now. "If you want you can… upstairs, I mean, since the couch sucks…"

Marshall Lee laughs. "Are you offering your _bed_?"

"Well yeah, I'll take the couch."

"Nah go cuddle your toy," he gives her a knowing look. "You big baby."

Oh, she will. Marceline throws herself on her bed upstairs, totally spent and totally happy. She actually _squeals_ quietly into Hambo's worn out fur. It still faintly smells like strawberries. She'll never have Simon back but at least she has the misshapen teddy bear he gave her again.

_Where did you go?_ She wonders silently. _Miss me?_

A long time ago, she would lie in the dark like she does now, and hold the bear. Marceline thinks last night was fantastic; she made up with Bubblegum, rocked the socks off of that party, spent all night with Marshall Lee (again), and got Hambo back. It couldn't have gone any better except maybe if he were to play with her hair again.

Wait, what?

And like some kind of terrible irreversible domino effect, her senses recollect the easy way they sat on Finn and Jake's couch for an hour, saying and doing nothing. Whatever possessed Marshall Lee to stroke her hair needs to happen again because his fingertips were fucking magical on her scalp. She can almost forgive him for trolling her the rest of the night. She wonders what else he can do with those fingers.

Wait, what?

Marceline's imagination goes back to a simpler time when the only thing hands were used for was to eat and to declare thumb war.

Marshall Lee was simply messing with her hair and didn't mean anything by it, but the sensation of it stays in her head.

**\/\/\/\/**

But for some reason, Marceline dreams of Ash that night.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

**A/N: **Say whaaat. So far this is what's going down:

- MarceLee feels are coming around

- Marshall Lee's memories are coming around

- Ash is up to something what could it be

Marshall Lee is moving out of the friendzone really slowly but that's what happens when you're being a troll. #lifelesson.  
It's k Marshall Lee I gotchu next chapter man.

* He's wearing that brown horse mask like in those memes, 'naw mean?

Thanks for those reviews last chapter :] Leave me another!

**toolazytologin**: Yeah you're right that must be it haha

**Marceleeregina**: Thanks? MarceLee is getting there

**Kenneth**: LOL ik I'll try to update more

**Doctor**: Fantasize away my sistah

**For These Texts**: Yay~

**Guest**: Rock on

**Jeje**: Sweet. Hope you keep reading!

**s/n**: On a personal note summer school and work are over for me woo so I'll update more frequently. If you read _Saudade_ I'm gonna update it with sidestories from Prince Gumball POV next week. Jsyk :]


	9. Changing

**Changing**

I am a gentleman

Didn't I ask for a place I could stay...  
You were just always talking about changing, changing  
What if I was the same man, same man, the same I always was?

- _The Airborne Toxic Event_

* * *

"Mar-mar."

The voice calling her name is faint and promptly ignored. Marceline holds on to deep sleep. This tranquil state of unconsciousness is bliss and she'll wrap herself in it for as long as she pleases which is five more minutes times infinity. But to her displeasure, there comes that slow, sinking feeling of drifting irretrievably awake.

"Mar-mar."

_Not now_.

Marceline growls and burrows deeper back into dreams. They replay behind shut eyelids and she smiles; she'll always smile at that grinning face and that brash demeanor and the way that hairfalls over dark eyes… Marceline holds the phantasm closer. It's all in her head but he smells vividly like candle smoke (unusual for him, but she likes that). The crook of his neck feels mortally soft against her lips and she nips, lightly. He always did like when she did that. Instead of a moan she hears

"_MAR-MAR_."

The phantasm takes her shoulder and shakes her violently, out of dreams and into real life. Marceline opens her eyes and the shaking isn't imaginary at all. Inches away, green eyes stare at her. Green, not black.

"Aww, what!" Marceline exclaims because this isn't the inexplicable fantasy after all. Just Marshall Lee.

Marshall Lee looks offended. "_'_Aw'? I let you molest me and you say 'Aw'?"

She blinks. "I did _what_?"

He smirks. "I didn't know you were a cuddler."

"Get off my bed!"

Her arms wouldn't let go of his neck back there but Marceline is fully awake now and she shoves him away without hesitation. Marshall Lee rolls off the edge and out of sight, taking her blankets with him. He lands with a _thud_. Just how entangled were they? And more importantly,

"What're you doing in my bed!" Marceline demands.

"I didn't do anything!" Marshall Lee reemerges, disheveled but dressed for the day. "I tried to wake you and you _glomped_ me."

"You didn't try hard enough."

"You sleep like a rock," he tells her frankly. "I was stuck for ten whole minutes."

"Did you try anything?" she asks him just as frankly.

"Not with _those _jammies," he eyes her rubber ducky PJs in disdain. "And to be honest the whole time I was thinking _am I spooning a girl or a mountain gorilla_ because damn, you got some crazy-strong arms—"

Marceline refrains from smacking him with her crazy-strong arms. "Don't ever wake me up ever. I was having an excellent sleep."

"I bet," Marshall Lee props his chin up with one hand. "Fantasizing again?"

"Not about you," she retorts. It was about dark eyes and white hair and vaguely recalling those days when they couldn't keep their hands off each other—

Marceline pauses. _What the actual fuck?_ She can't be remembering Ash in her sleep. She's over Ash. There are better things to do than dream about no-good exes.

"As I was saying," Marshall Lee continues. "You're late for your lady-date."

One look at her bedside clock tells her he's right; afternoon tea with Bubblegum starts right about… now. Marceline gets up with a groan. "Go with me."

"Nah. I've got manly things to do."

Hanging out with Finn and Jake isn't that manly. Marceline rolls her eyes. "Fine. Get outta my room."

"What!" He's back on her bed, chillaxing like it's his. "Why?"

"I gotta change, you perv."

"_You're_ the perv. You neck-biter."

Marceline is rummaging in her closet now and she throws a red boot at his smug face.

"Fine," Marshall Lee grumbles as the boot hits her headboard. "And wear the white one."

Marceline contemplates between the white and purple shirts in her hands and silently agrees.

"And Mar-mar?"

She doesn't turn around. "Yeah?"

"You say the nastiest shit in bed."

Her other boot sails for his head. Marshall Lee disappears down the trap door with a cackle and the boot bounces harmlessly off the wall.

The heel breaks.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

Afternoon tea at Candy Kingdom isn't the small affair that Marceline expected. She finds herself in Bubblegum's courtyard with a dozen chitchatting, tea-sipping princesses.

"This is a tea-_party_," she mutters to Bubblegum.

"Why yes," Bubblegum whispers back and placates her with food. "Cupcake?"

Marceline stays put because red velvet is one of the few foods that pleasure her vampire taste buds. And she promised to come, that too.

Year before, she attended one of these princess-exclusive tea parties, at Bubblegum's insistence and her own curiosity. They're nice. They're cozy. They're not her cup of tea pun intended. Marceline still feels out of place sitting around a long fancy table but it's not because the princesses are unfriendly. Just typical _females_.

Then Jungle Princess starts talking about high-heeled boots on sale which captures everyone's full attention and Marceline might not be so a-typical from the rest of the _females_ after all.

"Your sunhat is lovely," Water Princess tells her.

Marceline's hat is so oversized, it falls over her shoulders and defies sunlight. "Thanks. It's vintage."

"It goes with your top."

"No way."

"Yeah way."

The overall conversation goes from princessipality stress to the latest gossip to cute guys (Marceline chokes when Hotdog Princess swoons about _Finn_ of all people on this earth and how he's got a bubbly tushy). Inevitably, towards the end of Afternoon Tea the princesses ask about Marshall Lee.

"Is he your boyfriend?"

"Does he sing?"

"Does he really bite?"

"I think Jenny's going after him."

Marshall Lee is a fascination for others but a couch-surfing hobo to her. Marceline answers _No, No,_ and _Wow Breakfast Princess why do you even want to know_? She doesn't care about Jenny.

"How is the recovery going?" Bubblegum asks. "Have you guys been doing memory exercises? Brain training?"

Marceline doesn't know what either of those are like.

"You guys haven't done anything have you," Bubblegum sighs. "At this rate he'll be crashing at your place forever."

Lumpy Space Princess gasps. "Marceline that's flippin' crafty."

"Not even," Marceline says indignantly. "Have at him."

And everyone else concurs that they'd most definitely have at that really fly guy, dibs on him at the next Royal Bubblegum Ball.

Then his voice calls out.

"Wassup ladies."

Really Fly Guy chooses this moment to float into the royal garden with an umbrella, not in plaid but rather khakis and a V-neck. That's really because he ran out of clean laundry but the princesses don't know that; they rise in greeting and compliment the 'new' threads.

"Don't mind me," Marshall Lee leans casually against Marceline's chair, his umbrella shading her hat. "Just picking up the sugar mama."

Marceline wonders if he enjoys getting scandalized looks.

"We were just finishing up," Bubblegum tells him.

"Care to join us?" Lamprey Princess offers.

And thus Marshall Lee infiltrates the girls-only Tea Party, that most sacred of royal female affairs, and turns it co-ed.

"Did Finn and Jake put you up to this?" Marceline asks as he seats himself beside her.

He grins. "Maybe."

"Behave."

So Marshall Lee exudes PG-13 charisma for the next ten minutes and converses about politics (_What a drag_), fashion (_Ooh girl those platforms_), and his love life (_Sugar ma—I mean Marceline won't let me date_).

"What do you plan to do, Marshall Lee?" Breakfast Princess asks. "Do you think your friends are worried back home?"

Marshall Lee sips his red tea like a sir. "Well no one's been looking for me so I guess I don't have any… pretty sad huh?" The princesses murmur sympathetically. "But I've got Marcy and she's strong enough for the both of us."

"Really?"

"Yeah she's got a good _grip_ on the situation." Marceline steps on his converse-clad foot under the table but Marshall Lee keeps a straight face. "I don't think I could _hold on_ if it wasn't for her."

Marceline is suddenly uncomfortable; the princesses look at her with newfound pats her hand with the sweetest smile. "You really are a nice person, aren't you Marceline?"

Marshall Lee adds "And she doesn't bite (that hard)."

Marceline stomps on his foot outright and declares that they gotta get going.

"Hot date?" LSP waggles her eyebrows suggestively.

"Nah just hanging out… with Ice King…" Marceline says and anyone who looked like they wanted to tag along loses interest quickly. Evidently, not even Marshall Lee can make Ice King look good.

"Do join us again," Bubblegum says graciously.

"Maybe next year," Marceline scoffs. But they both know she doesn't mean that. Bubblegum just smiles.

Marshall Lee gets smacked as soon as they're out of Candy Castle.

"You think you're soo funny!" she chastises.

He snickers. "Your face was soo red."

"My bad, okay?" Marceline says, exasperated. "I didn't molest you on purpose earlier."

"I know."

"We're cool?"

"We're cool." But after a while, Marshall Lee says "You know I won't do anything if you bring a guy home, right?"

The statement takes her aback. "Huh?"

"I mean…" His left hand holds the umbrella over them. The right rubs the back of his neck. "It's your house. If you have someone over I won't judge. I'll just disappear for a few hours if you know what I mean—"

"Hold up," she interrupts. "You think I'm _thirsty_, Marshall Lee?" His serious face makes her grin. "Are you offering to sexile yourself?"

"Well you see, this afternoon I realized even biddies get lonely."

Marceline supposes that in his own way, Marshall Lee is being a gentleman. She's still stung, though. "Who's a biddy!"

"Just saying!"

She's too preoccupied with figuring him out to find a booty call anyway but he doesn't need to know all that. Marceline reaches up to ruffle his hair, just the way he finds irritating. "Marshy, one day I'll tell you what motels are for."

"You're freaking nasty."

"How's Finn and Jake?"

"They're good. We were gonna have a BMO marathon but then…"

Marceline listens to the latest incident at the tree fort concerning giant grinding snails and as they fly across the landscape, it occurs to her that for the first time she doesn't actually know what Marshall Lee has been up to today.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

Marceline should've thought of visiting Ice King from the start. Not just when Marshall Lee appeared, but when the lucid dreams started. He of all people with his alternate-dimension obsession would've understood… right?

They arrive to a deserted Ice Castle.

"Simon?" Marceline calls out to cavernous, icy hallways. Her voice echoes unanswered.

"I brought Peebles!" she says and if that won't bring his old ass running then nothing will.

No one is home. Marceline shrugs and leads Marshall Lee into the study. Sure enough, Ice King has a bookshelf exclusively for his writing. She says "Let's check these out."

"Who's the real housebreaker here?" Marshall Lee comments. They settle down on a polar bear rug with a stash of notebooks and Marceline tosses him _Adventure Time with Fionna & Cake volume one._

"See if that sounds familiar," she tells him. Marshall Lee catches the book and holds it unopened for a moment.

"How weird would it be," he says casually. "If it turns out I'm like, your imaginary friend?"

By now Marceline can recognize that thoughtful furrow of his brow. "It wouldn't be weird."

"But I wouldn't be real."

"You're here now, aren't you?"

"True..."

Marceline browses through random volumes of fanfiction, all about a yellow-haired adventuress and her cat. She grins. Finn and Jake would freak if they saw all the drag-themed drivel they inspired.

Actually, 'drivel' is kind of harsh. Ice King's stories all boast flawless detail –as if he really believes Aaa is real. Then Marceline comes across a particularly tattered notebook. It's so worn, pages slide from the binding and into her lap. She dreads that it's _Fionna & Cake_ erotica oh Glob forbid no.

It's not. It's a journal. Marceline sees slanted, scholarly writing that she hasn't seen in a long time. Tentatively, she picks up a page. Two lines into reading and she already knows this journal is a thousand years old.

The journal reads

'_Day 37: Today, your fever went down. Thank goodness. You were so mad that I wore the crown again but you don't understand. I have to protect us.'_

Marceline snaps the journal shut and dust puffs out. There's no point in getting melancholy about the past. But her fingers move on their own. They pry the book open again.

'_Day 38: The dreams are so vivid now, even without my—the crown. You always frown now. What do I say? What do I do? I don't remember. I'm sorry. I can't promise you it won't happen again.'_

_'Day 40: But what if these dreams aren't dreams at all?'_

_'Day 42: You cried. I think you know I've been trying it on. I'm sorry, Marceline. But I need to know. I need to find out if these visions are truth… how wonderfully terrible that would be if they were…'_

_'Day 49: "How dreadful the knowledge of truth, when there is no help in truth". I can't undo what I know now, Marceline… I can see all the secrets of the universe and it's driving me insane… Stupid crown. It should just show me where to get you new shoes instead.'_

'_Day 63: I told you a story tonight. It was about a different world, far away in space and time. You laughed – you haven't laughed in so long! – at the candy castle and the gumball prince and the heroines that save the land. But it's real, Marcy. It's out there. I wish I could send you there; that's the kind of place a little girl like you deserves to be in.'_

Oh Glob this is terrible. She needs to stop. She doesn't need to read about the last few weeks of this man's dying sanity. She doesn't need to be reminded of how much he cared for her. And for once, Marceline is chicken. Too chicken to turn to the next page, too chicken to put the book away and never find it again.

Her good mood from ten minutes ago has evaporated completely. A hand tugs at the ends of her shirt. She looks up and Marshall Lee asks, "What's wrong?"

"Stealing. Well? What do you think?"

"Of what?"

"Of _Fionna & Cake volume one_."

"Oh." He shrugs. "I couldn't read that much. Ice King writes in chicken scratch."

"Want me to read it to you?" Marshall Lee looks bored and she adds "Aw c'mon. You really don't think the land of Aaa sounds familiar? Think about Finn in drag and man-Bubblegum."

"Sure it's familiar. But Ooo's just more real."

_Duh. It's the world you're in._ But she doesn't say that. Marceline observes Marshall Lee's impassive face. Is he _apprehensive_ of being a fictional creation?

"Marcy," he says. "Do you really wanna find out about me that badly? Right now?"

"Sure I do. I'm way curious," she replies. "Aren't _you_?"

"Yeah. But now that I think about it… I like not knowing too."

"Why?"

"What if I'm _you_?"

Marshall Lee is apprehensive of being a living, breathing (not really), gender-bent copy of _her_.

Marceline laughs. "Who cares what you are? You're just Marshall Lee."

Marshall Lee looks pensive when he says "I won't always wanna be 'just Marshall Lee', you know."

She raises an eyebrow but Marshall Lee doesn't elucidate. What a wad. She thinks she'll take him in a headlock and demand satisfaction until he spills but then she hears a

"_Wenk_."

They look behind them. It's a penguin.

"Gunter?" Marceline says.

"_Wenk_."

"Where's Simon?"

"_Wenk_."

"What?" she leans down to hear better and a flipper slaps her across the cheek. The impact turns her head aside. "Hey!"

"_Wenk-wenk-wenk-wenk-wenk—"_

"We're not trashing anything!" she protests. "Just reading!"

But Gunter starts squawking anyway and in seconds, a horde of equally small equally loud penguins enter the study going "_Wenk-wenk-wenk_" in deafening chorus. They start slapping.

"Fine we'll come back later!" Marceline shouts over the ruckus. You'd think she was trampling some penguin eggs or something.

"_Ow_," Marshall Lee complains because a hundred flippers slapping on a leg sting like no other mother. "They're two feet tall, we can take them!"

"Not _this_ kind," she replies, quickly grabbing the umbrella and leading Marshall Lee out of the nearest open window. They don't stop flying until the screeching _wenk_s are out of earshot. Marceline the Vampire Queen retreated from a waddle of angry penguins and she's not sure how to feel about that.

"Did we really just..?" Marshall Lee says quietly.

"We do not speak of this to anyone, ever," Marceline replies and that settles that.

So much for having a talk with Ice King.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

Her cheek stings and Marshall Lee swears it's turning purple, so they stop by a gas station on the side of a highway. It's dusk by now.

"Get the ice for me?" Marceline caresses her injured cheek tiredly.

"Burn," Marshall Lee gives her the eye-roll, but he leaves her with the umbrella and goes into the store anyway.

Close by, Marceline hears familiar frustrated grunting. She notices a yellow cab at one of the gas pumps, its driver pushing all the available buttons. She tries not to gasp. "_LSP_?"

Lumpy Space Princess, who just hours ago sipped tea like she'd never heard of minimum wage, is now hard at work and dressed in a taxi driver's yellow suit and hat. "_Marceline?_ Hey giiirl! How do you work these things?"

Marceline comes over and instructs LSP in the fine art of filling a gas tank. "What happened to In-N-Out?"

"They lumpin' fired me," LSP says indignantly. "I don't _know_ how my ring got in that burger okay, and I gave that guy CPR anyway. He was totally fine."

"You mean you gave a Heimlich?"

"There's a difference? Anyway I'm a cab driver now. It's gonna be totally awesome. You wanna ride?"

Marceline is sure LSP must've passed some kind of cab driver-licensing test. "Sure? Marshall Lee's in the store, he'll be out in a minute."

LSP gasps suddenly. She reaches out with gentle fingers. "Marceline your cheek!"

"Huh? Oh yeah, he's getting me ice for it." The princess's complexion turns an angrier shade of purple and Marceline quickly adds "It wasn't him, it was a penguin."

"You don't gotta lie to your friends, Marcy," LSP squeezes her hands tightly. Then she storms off. "Did he do that to you? Girl don't let him do that to you I'm gonna go in there and give him a piece of my lumps I mean mind!"

"Wait—"

But then again that sounds like a hilarious showdown. Marceline can't see LSP inside the store but she can see a stunned Marshall Lee getting raged at by the much-shorter princess. She leans against the cab and snickers.

Something is dripping and it smells like gasoline. Marceline looks down. LSP left the cab running and the pumping overflowing and excess gas drips to a growing puddle on the ground. Marceline slaps her forehead; that girl won't last a week. She goes to tell LSP not to let her cab explode. Five paces later there's a huge

_BOOM._

Marceline feels the heat and the flying debris before she hears the explosion. It knocks her off her feet onto her knees. Was someone smoking a cigarette? Spontaneous combustion? Who knows, this is Ooo and random shit happens all the time but she's still stunned to see the cab behind her suddenly engulfed in fire. She lost the umbrella somewhere. Her ears ring. Then she hears other people screaming about the gas pump and scrambles away just as that, too, goes up in flames.

The inferno quickly spreads to the store and the pumps and a dozen people run out, panicking. The pumps explode.

All this, in seconds.

_The fuck just happened?_

Above the screaming, Marceline hears "_HOLY LUMPS." _LSP is among the crowd gathering at the other side of the road, away from the billowing columns of fire.

"MARCELINE," LSP sees her approach. Frantic lines etch themselves all over her face. "You're okay! I'm sooo sorry I don't know what happened! OhmyGlob what do I do Daddy's gonna kill meee—"

"Call 911 okay?" Marceline tells her reassuringly. "Where's—"

A hand grabs hers from behind and it seems he found her first. Marceline turns around. Marshall Lee is indescribably flustered, an alien expression. The flames make shadows dance on his face. He's speechless as he inspects her very intact body.

"_Holy shit_," are the first words he manages to say after a while. "I didn't mean it."

Marceline grins at the irony. "I lost the umbrella."

"Fuck the umbrella."

"Doesn't it burn?" she nods in the direction of the setting sun. "Want my hat?"

"Fuck your hat." Lamely, he holds out a bag of half-frozen water. "Ice?"

"Fuck your ice."

Freaking out just isn't their style.

Fire trucks arrive in minutes to contain the blaze. Police question LSP and the other bystanders. Surely this will make it to the evening news and wouldn't Bubblegum have a fit about the illogical unscientific events that turned a gas station into a fiery pit. Marceline and Marshall Lee sit quietly at a bus stop and wait for sundown. Marshall Lee has something on his mind and it's not about the fragility of life.

Sundown comes around and his fingers are still intertwined with hers but when they get up he'll let go. Marceline is pretty sure she'd never die in a petty gas station fire. She's not shocked about nearly getting her face burnt off, she's not traumatized for life. Freak accidents happen. But how nice would it be if Marshall Lee keeps holding hands like she really is in need of comforting.

She's changing and he's changing and it's not because of the fire incident or the bed incident or even the old Jenny incident. He gets up first and she's the one holding on to the contact of their skin. Before he can joke Marceline says "We gotta talk."

Marshall Lee looks down at her, curious. "Why?"

"Because."

"Because _what_?"

"You have something you don't wanna tell me but you should."

Marshall Lee doesn't say _touché _but she knows he thinks it. He could just blow her off like he usually does but grudgingly, he reciprocates the pressure of her fingers.

"Yeah, let's talk."

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

**A/N:** SUSPENSE. By now I think Marshall Lee deserves to say he's at Tier 1/2 I mean they've been holding hands for like 3 chapters or something.

THANKS for the buttload reviews last chapter! Makes me feel fab. How was this chapter?

**Darktiger09**: Lol yea he's that kinda guy. Don't lose your shit :(

**Marceleeregina**: Maybe idk. We'll see!

**alvinandbrittany4ever**: Well this wasn't soon but I hope it's worth haha

**OhHeyAl**: Explore ALL the feels.

**Doctor**: No no dodge the backhands pls I believe the children are our future

**bangitrealgood**: Here brah tissue for you

**lilysash97**: Wiki says her eyes are green ergo we must all buy it :(

**xXadventureTimedaBossXx**: Yes. Yes he is. I can't wait to show it, /gg

**Guest**: Oh stop it you

**Sakura4128: **Less than 3

**Jeje**: Indeed we should all have mates like that.

**VickytheRandomest**: Less than 3 smiley face

**Marceleegirl**: It is sad. But at least they can do the falling in love thing over again :P

**ZanyAnimeGirl**: Yes.

**monkey**: You're excellent.


	10. When It Started

**When It Started  
**

Think things move pretty fast down here  
But just wait my dear 'til we get up there

_- The Strokes  
_

* * *

They leave the noise and the searing heat behind.

"You know I don't judge," Marceline reminds him.

"On this one you might," Marshall Lee replies.

"I won't."

Their fingers stay intertwined, easily. Marshall Lee's knuckle bumps against her hip as they walk – not fly– beside the highway. They won't get anywhere at this leisurely pace but he says nothing about it and neither does she. By now, Marceline knows not to expect anything but he's mullling over the right words to say and that makes her on edge. Marshall Lee is never careful with words.

Then finally, he says "The truth is..."

For the dozenth time Marceline finds herself listening to every word.

"... I'm a douchebag."

And for the dozenth time she wonders why she's such a sucker for anticlimax.

"Forreal, hear me out," Marshall Lee adds when she makes an impatient noise. "I'm talking giganto-douche. Douchier than Ash."

That's coming from a guy who describes himself as nothing short of 'hella awesome' and 'sick-nasty'. Marceline is too alarmed to be disappointed.

"What chu talkin' bout?"

"It's been coming back to me the past couple days," he motions with a free hand. "Killing people, I mean. I thought it was normal at first, they were just memories about before I went vegan but nah, brah. I did it _for_ _fun_."

"We're vampires," she reassures him. "Everybody's done it."

"This was different," he insists. "I was hardcore."

She doubts he's been on her level of evil.

"I..." Marshall Lee gulps and the muscles of his throat bulge. "I remember torching villages... cities... I wouldn't even be hungry or anything, I just wanted to hear everyone run around and scream and maybe die if they had shitty luck that night..."

What do you say to something like that?

Marceline keeps silent.

"I'd get close to people, make them trust me. I'd wait years, even, just to see that look on their faces when I turned on them..." Marshall Lee has a faraway look in his eyes as he stares at the horizon. "They gave me the same look. All of them."

This is most definitely a guilt trip and she can't blame him for having one. He's been all about the easygoing life for as long as the three weeks that he can remember. Marshall Lee talks about memories of an indescribable time - all about killing-maiming-destroying, all on a whim. Even now he sounds surprised at the sheer wantonness of it. Confounded, even. Marceline knows the kind of conscientiousness he's feeling.

Maybe he _has_ been on her level after all.

"And you know what the worst part is?" Marshall Lee asks her wryly in the end.

"What?"

"I forget all about it when you come downstairs."

Marceline just might be the real douchebag here because even after that earnest confession, the part she finds herself interested in the most is _that one last part about the stairs_. She bites her bottom lip but the twitch of her mouth doesn't go unnoticed. Marshall Lee eyes her expectantly.

She takes a deep and unnecessary breath. "I ain't judging. You know why?"

"Why?"

"I used to do all that too."

All his sadistic fucking-around with the living, all those ways to play God – yeah, she's done each and every one. Maybe douchebag minds think alike.

Marshall Lee slows down to a halt. "No way."

"Yeah way."

"You did _that_ to homeless kids? And little blonde nymph chicks?"

"Guess I'm just a total douche," Marceline shrugs.

"Marcy," Marshall Lee stares at her and she stares right back, daring him to think the worse of her. Now they've stopped walking altogether. "You had problems."

She smirks. "_That_ was your big secret? That's all you didn't want me to know?"

"Yeah that was pointless. I should've known you'd be as big of a douchebag."

Later, she'll remind him of how laughably relieved he actually looks.

"Good thing we changed our ways, yeah?"

"We see the light."

"Praise Glob."

"Halleluyer."

Their glaring-turned-staring contest is a standstill but eventually Marceline snorts one of those man-snorts and Marshall Lee snickers and in a surge of overwhelming most-definitely platonic affection she wraps her arms around his waist and buries her laughter into his shirt.

He's getting better, alright. She'll be sorry to see him go.

The hug doesn't last that long because they both take a step back at the sound of a familiar voice.

"Hey you guys!" Finn shouts out.

Marceline looks up about twenty feet and sees Finn atop Jake's back, holding onto a sizeable water tank.

"You guys okay?" Jake asks. "You look kinda burnt, Marceline!"

"Yeah, go! The fire's that way!" she shouts back the obvious and points at distant smoke columns and the heroes continue their hasty way shouting _on it like a bonnet._

Back where they're standing, apart again, the moment is over.

"Oh by the way," Marceline says casually. "I heard about this crazy sale going going on today..."

Marshall Lee is not impressed. "Ermahgerd."

"70% off designer boots," she insists.

"Your face is purple and you reek gas. Girl you can't _shop_."

She smirks. "You just don't wanna be seen with me looking ratch."

"Damn right I don't. Look at you."

"Fine I'll go by myself, all alone and injured-"

"You're not going anywhere," Marshall Lee retorts, oh no he did _not_ just tell her what to (not) do. Marceline does what she she wants.

He mutinously starts dragging her home anyway.

"Shame on you, tryna go shopping when you're looking like a burn victim!"

"Shut up you're freaking primeval!"

But she supposes she can't sock a bro in the face over _footwear_. The way he grips her hand when flying is as easy as when they were walking; Marshall Lee successfully drags her all the way back to her front door and into the kitchen. Marceline must not have wanted designer boots that badly.

"Bogus day, huh?" From across the counter, Marshall Lee watches her apply an ice pack to the sore cheek.

"So bogus," Marceline agrees.

"Good thing you didn't get blown up."

"Yeah I would've been mad."

"Me too."

Being concerned just isn't their style. At dawn they part ways at the foot of the stairs like they always do and Marceline goes to bed with Hambo in one hand and the ice pack in the other. She may have dreamt of ex-boyfriends again but who cares about that. Marceline wakes up looking forward to going down the stairs.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

The day comes when Marshall Lee beats her at Guitar Hero at last. Marceline takes the showdown to real instruments and oh Grod he wins at that, too. But not without cracking the neck of her butterfly guitar.

_Hell._

They head for the nearest music store asap. It's crowded there, full of metal heads punk heads and all kinds of melophiliac heads in general. Marceline thinks she can't look at Marshall Lee's face right now so she leaves his smug ass waiting in line with the guitar and browses through the records section. But she can't be annoyed for long when every vinyl cover reminds her that they're musical soulmates. One day soon Marshall Lee will go back to wherever he came from and for good times' sake she might just get him this Springsteen record in her hands (Grod knows he hollers _Born To Run_ in the shower all the time).

Marceline bumps into a pale guy dressed all in black. Her jaw drops. Pigs must be flying because Ash of all people is in a music store carrying a guitar of all things.

"_Mar-mar_?"

"_Ash_?" But Marceline is too fly to be awkward around old boyfriends. "Nice bass."

It's more than nice, actually. The guitar in his hands is a shiny red bass. It's made out of an axe, uncannily like hers except the blade is one-sided and the blunt end is curved. Clearly, someone had the badass idea to turn an ancient war axe into a bass and succeeded with a badass end-product.

"Can I?" Marceline can't resist asking and Ash lends her the axe bass. Her fingers fall in love in an instant. She plucks a few chords. "Where'd this baby come from?"

"Picked it up at the bazaar," Ash rubs the bald side of his head nonchalantly. "I thought it looked cool so I had it fixed up in here."

"It's way cool," Marceline caresses smooth wood.

"I'll look way cool when I learn to play it. Chicks dig bassists, didn't you know?" She rolls her eyes and Ash laughs. "Just kidding babe. I'm just broadening my skillsets."

"Really," she smirks skeptically.

"Yeah. Wanna hear me riff?"

"You can riff?"

"Well no... yet."

Marceline snickers and hands the bass back. "Sure, Ash. Call me when you're ready to quit it."

Ash smiles. "We'll see."

The old Ash would've jumped at the chance to sell a guitar for wand/weed money. Maybe he's not so hopeless after all.

"How's Hambo? How's... everything?" he asks casually, making obvious small talk.

"Hambo's good. Everything's good."

"You're doing okay?"

"More than okay," she grins and Ash looks like he expects her to say something but what else is there to say, really? He slips into her mind sometimes but she's much more engrossed real-life happenings with Marshall Lee and Bubblegum and Finn and Jake.

"Marcy," Ash's sights settle on her left cheek. "Is that a..?"

"Freak accident. No biggie," she shrugs. The bruise has faded to a pasty yellow color now.

Ash touches her face. Softly, with the kind of intimacy from way way back in the day. Suddenly Marceline feels nostalgia surge and it's seeping from his fingers through her veins and to the tips of her toes. She's going to lean into his touch and let him put an arm around her and let things go from there. She sighs.

Marceline sees green plaid from the corner of her eye and the nostalgia is gone.

Ash feels her stiffen. He sees Marshall Lee approach and steps away, but not without squeezing her shoulder first.

"I gotta go," he grins and walks off with total smugness. "Call me."

Moments later, Marshall Lee is by her side. His presence is completely different from Ash's.

"Do I want to know?" he inquires.

"Nah. He just wants to get on our level."

"People in hell want ice water." He picks up the _Born To Run _record reverently. "Repair dude said to come back in three hours. Also said I jammed _most excellently_."

"Yeah you did," Marceline says grudgingly.

"What do you wanna do for three hours?"

In tandem, they turn to look out of the window and at the furniture store across the street.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

True to his word, Marshall Lee helps carry the new couch from the delivery van to the living room. It took them three whole hours to pick one worthy of Marshall Lee's ass's seal of approval and now it takes another hour to maneuver the couch through her front door. Inside, they set it down at an aesthetically terrible angle but rearranging can come later. The Couch feels like heaven on three cushions and weighs like a rhino and they sink into it gladly.

"I broke a nail."

"I broke a back."

"Totally worth."

"Totally."

They sigh in contentment and exchange tired high fives. Marceline leans sideways against Marshall Lee's shoulder and her legs dangle off the couch and she remembers that they've been like this before. Just like that time at Finn and Jake's house, sitting doing nothing is hella comfortable.

"We gotta get that one out," Marceline looks at the old couch that they shoved over by the door.

"I'll move it with my mind," he tells her.

"Me too."

The couch doesn't move and neither do they.

"However much time we have left, I'll treat you right," Marshall Lee pats brand-new cushions fondly.

"Like you'll never come over after you're better," Marceline says dryly and he grins. For them to grow distant is inconceivable.

"When I'm better you can crash at _my_ place."

"It's gonna be a pigsty."

"My couch is yours."

Marshall Lee's offer is heartfelt in his own little way. Marceline laughs (but she's actually quite touched) and for no particular reason leans over. His cheek is right there, one small turn of the head away. She pecks it lightly.

"Okay."

A change in their easygoing bromance is inconceivable, too. Then Marceline glances at Marshall Lee's expression and he's not surprised or annoyed or even confused.

"Did you miss?" he asks.

It's an honest question.

She answers "Yeah."

Marshall Lee kisses her, easily.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

**A/N: **Lol I'm not done yet. Recap:

- Ash has an axe bass say whaat

- Marshall Lee makes a move say whaat

Douchebag cliff I know so I'll update in a few days :D

Thanks for those reviews last chapter! How was this one? I like writing critique forreal.

**idkdontask**: Hehe. I like messing with LSP too.

**For These Texts**: I gotchu my sistah no tears

**Doctor**: Lool use the power of fuck you wisely pls k

**OhHeyAl**: WAIT MORE BRUH

**mishemoo**: Look I diiid xD

**marceleeluvr**: I always deliver.

**Marceleeregina**: Nah he doesn't remember everything. Yet.

**Marceleegirl**: Here, take this cliffhanger

**lilysash97**: All gooddd

**XoX- Sugar Quill and Ink -XoX**: Marshall Lee episode is dank. Glad you like!

**dead breathing**: Oh sweet jesus I didn't realize this was getting angsty.. LOL ty Jenna


	11. Blurred Lines

**Blurred Lines**

I hate these blurred lines

I know you want it

_- Robin Thicke_

* * *

It's a simple kiss but he makes her eyelids drop.

Perhaps Marshall Lee meant to stop but then forgot because after a while Marceline winds blind fingers round the back of his neck, pressing. She keeps him there. It seems he knows what to do with a mouth and that can't be right. She better check again. Marceline finds herself leaning back and he eases her down and then the new couch is dope for something entirely different from sitting.

Not so simple now. They're getting way, way carried away for a first kiss but insensibility feels great. Fangs graze; they go deeper. He's not gentleman enough to not hit the spot between jaw and neck that makes her inhale and she lets her hands roam.

The doorbell rings and they jolt. Marceline finds her arms around his neck and his knee to her thigh. They exchange bewildered looks. Not _dafuq are we doing _kind of looks_ – _more like _who dafuq is that._

_Ding-dong-ding-dong-ding_ for ten seconds is impossible to ignore and kills the mood.

"Maarceline!" Wendy, Booboo and Georgy call from outside. "Are you home?"

Maarceline won't even try to explain the disheveled state of her hair. She shoves Marshall Lee to the floor. He lands with a _thud_ but her ghost friends don't hear. Conveniently, the back of the new couch is to the windows and unless Marshall Lee jump ups complaining about sore lips no one will be the wiser.

"Where is she hiding lately!" Wendy's voice exclaims over by the nearest window.

"Loser," Booboo says.

"Isn't she living with some guy now," Georgy adds and the other two say something along the lines of _oh I see how it is_ and _I bet it's another schmuck_. Then Georgy says

"Hey look a new couch."

"What does she need one for she's dead."

"Getting freaky I guess."

Marceline slaps a hand down on Marshall Lee's face as he snorts when Wendy says "Naaah she would never."

"Looks plush."

"Imma go in there and try it." Then a yelp. "Hey this door got soaked with holy water I can't get through!"

Grod bless Finn and Jake.

Marshall Lee quickly reaches up to pinch her nose before _she_ laughs. So that's what those dweebs meant by 'upgrayding' her door – they must've felt so proud to make it vampire-repellent. She must've told them a dozen times that holy water doesn't work on her kind. It does for ghosts, though. Evidently sneaking in through her window is beneath anyone except for Ice King; Wendy, Booboo and Georgy lose interest and leave. Their voices fade, something about going to the cemetery and how Ghost Princess is way cooler anyway.

Marshall Lee meets her eyes. He's still pinching her nose but a few minutes ago he made her a different kind of quiet. He snickers. She lets go. Cracking up about ironic things together is a must between biffles – then the laughter falters when Marceline readjusts her shirt and Marshall Lee wipes his lip.

"Uhm."

"Er."

"So..."

What happened back there sinks in. They already had perfect relations what have they done oh no. They see eye to eye, her lying on her stomach and him seated on the floor, and it's like looking at something that confounds and yet makes total sense that way.

"Marshall Lee?"

His voice is hoarse. "Yeah?"

"What was that?" The obvious answer is Tiers 2, 3, 4 and maybe 8 so Marceline adds "Why did you kiss me I mean."

"I don't know. I kinda just went for it," Marshall Lee admits. He rubs his hair, a habit. "Are you weirded out?"

_Is_ she? Marceline scratches her head thoughtfully too. "It was..."

Random? Unexpected? _Weird_?

"... pretty math, actually," she concludes for lack of better words.

"Ah." A slow grin bends that mouth. It's infectious. "I was afraid you'd say _I don't wanna ruin our friendship_ or some junk like that."

It's not entirely junk. Marceline knows the ending to the old friends-turned-couple story too well. Marshall Lee divines her thoughts and quickly adds "Hey no take-backs."

Now what?

Did she really not see this coming?

They better stop a moment and think about the circumstances that won't come to mind right now because Marshall Lee is looking at her in a way he's done before. Ugh, this guy. He looks so fine it hurts sometimes or maybe her face is just sore.

"Hey," Marceline says quietly. "Do it again."

He leans forward and they're back to where they started.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

True to her word, Princess Bubblegum comes over to play basketball. They're gathered around the hoop on her deck. Marceline is on her A-game today and so is Bubblegum and together they make a dynamic duo of dunks and graceful shots. Marceline invited Ice King too but he never called her back.

Finn wheezes on his knees. "Princess I didn't know you were a baller."

"I was quite the athlete at princess academy," Bubblegum explains which translates to star synchronized swimmer. Marceline gives her a high five anyway.

"I'm pooped, whew," a sweaty Jake passes the ball. "Sub me man!"

Marshall, chilling in the chair by the wall, catches it with deft hands. "Would you say... _your dogs are barking_?"

"Booo get off the stage," Marceline says.

"Oh snap," Bubblegum says. "Fightin' words."

"Dude she wants a piece of that," Finn says.

"Yeah she does," Marshall Lee takes his sweet time getting up. That smirk is just for her.

Marceline sticks out a tongue. Not a single practical concern was addressed last night, – she didn't even bother going upstairs- or this morning, or this afternoon. They better get on that but it's hard to chat when kissing Marshall Lee turned out to be some kind of crack. She's terrible with new highs.

"Marceline!" Bubblegum calls out and she stops zoning out in time to see Finn score, whoa when did that happen.

"The moves!" Finn points at Marshall Lee.

"The moves!" He points back. Idiots.

"Need I remind you we are 62-40?" Bubblegum says.

"Repeat the moves," Marshall Lee and Finn reassure each other, undaunted. The ball rolls to Marceline's foot. She picks it up and throws an obnoxious look. There's no reason not to be at ease around these guys.

"What moves?"

A half hour passes and this 2v2 gets nowhere. Everyone's sweaty and breathing deeply with the exception of Jake who disappeared into the kitchen long ago. Marshall Lee is being a little turd and showing her up; Marceline won't stand for that. She guards him hard core like he doesn't have longer limbs or faster man-reflexes.

"But I mean, it _is_ true," he says defensively on his latest observation about women and sandwiches.

"He's got a point," Finn agrees over by the hoop.

"You buffoons," Bubblegum says indignantly. "Kitchen jokes offend us and we demand satisfaction."

"What she said," Marceline adds. "Buffoons."

There's a four-way narrowing of eyes. Marshall Lee dribbles in place, holding her gaze. An arm's length separates bent knees and tense shoulders. Winning a little game won't reconcile gender disparity but everyone likes to gloat at losers. It's the principle of throwdowns.

"It is so on," Finn grits his teeth. "Like donkey kong."

Jake swings the back door open singing "WHO WANTS COOKIEEES" and suddenly it is no longer on.

"Noice Jake!"

"A wonderful idea!"

"You guys!" Marceline exclaims but chocolate chip triple fudge on a plate cannot be denied. Finn and Bubblegum are lured to the sidelines.

Marshall Lee bounces the basketball lazily now. He tilts his head. "You had cookie dough?"

"Beats me," Marceline shrugs. "I hope the dog didn't use the-" He turns into a sudden blur and slips past. Her fingers snatch orange on reflex though. Marshall Lee skids empty handed. "Hey that was trife!"

"Bad Marshall," he rolls his eyes.

"C'mon I want real moves," Marceline taunts, ball in hands.

"You can't handle."

"I'm good at handling."

"I get rough."

"My body is ready."

"We're talking basketball right?"

"C'mon you guys take 5!" Jake waves the goodies around.

Marshall Lee says "No" and Marceline says "I demand satisfaction" and they settle for a civilized shoot-out that nobody ends up winning anyway.

No such thing as awkwardness between them. Today is like any other day.

"Oh that reminds me, Marshall Lee," Bubblegum exclaims at the end of Basketball Day With The Dudes Plus Princess. She pulls out a new invention from her princess-pink duffel bag. "Doctor Princess and I have been working on a new therapeutic device."

Everyone gathers round and Bubblegum unwraps what looks like a pimped-out colander with buttons and wires.

"The Brainator stimulates brain waves," the princess beams. "We believe mild electroshock therapy will enhance neural recovery over time..." Eyes start to glaze but anyway at the end Bubblegum gets Marshall Lee to sit down. "Have a try!"

"Swerve." He sits on a chair and puts the helmet on.

"You look rad," Finn says.

"Real fly," Jake adds.

"Shut up."

Bubblegum pushes buttons here and there and small lights glow in tandem. They watch and wait and anticipate.

"Watcha feelin'?" Finn asks.

Marshall Lee shrugs. "Nothing much."

Bubble turns the lights up a notch. "Close your eyes. Relax."

When he does that Marshall Lee says "Nope. Zilch."

"Dummy she said 'over time'," Marceline reminds him.

He complains "Peebles she's impairing the healing process."

How such a baby can be so excellent at big-boy stuff is a total mystery not that she's complaining. Bubblegum takes her aside and Marceline expects to hear _Be patient with the infirm_ or something like that. Instead, Bubblegum gives her a sly look.

"What's going on here?"

"Huh?"

"With you and Marshall Lee, silly."

Marceline blinks. "Why? Am I giving off vibes?"

She giggles. "You know, the Royal Bubblegum Ball is coming up..."

"Ain't nobody got time Bonnie," Marceline retorts. Bubblegum looks smug and goes _mm-hmm_.

Behind them, Marshall Lee curses. The chair skids. Finn and Jake yelp and something crackles loudly. They turns around and it seems the wise guys tried turning up the Brainator. It's emitting smoke tendrils.

"Finn!" Marceline and Bubblegum say.

"We didn't know!" Finn says.

"It was a group decision!" Jake says. Marshall Lee tears the Brainator off and stands woozily.

"My bad," he admits in traditional bros-cover-bros fashion. He grimaces, winces, then topples over at first step. The Brainator falls into pieces.

Bubblegum flips out and Finn and Jake don't stand a chance. Minutes later they remember Marshall Lee and his unconscious body gets dumped on the couch. He'll be fine – a little electric shock never killed anyone. His hair is all kinds of static-y ratchet though. If only they could take pictures. Then with a groan, the victim comes awake.

"You okay buddy?" Jake peers from the back of the couch.

"His complexion is back to normal," Bubblegum discerns because even undead paleness has discernible shades.

"Hey princess," Marceline watches him prop himself up on one elbow. She won't tease (that much). Marshall Lee rubs half-open eyes. He glances around the four of them.

He looks confused. "Who are you?"

_Wait._

_What_?

The room falls deathly quiet. Seconds go slowly. That blank face makes her nerves freeze. Her mood swings a complete 180.

_You have got to be kidding m-_

"- Joke, it was a joke," Marshall Lee hastily drops the poker face after seeing her expression. Oh no he did _not_ just go there. On its own, her fist finds his abdomen. "_Ugh_!"

"Whoa now!" Jake exclaims.

Marceline storms off. She slams the front door behind her and stews by the mouth of the cave, projecting angry thoughts into the sunset. Being emotional is exhausting though. After a while she runs out of adjectives to call Marshall Lee.

He's well enough to go after her. Arms go around her shoulders from behind.

"Sorry," Marshall Lee says by her left cheek. "Bad joke. I suck." She doesn't respond. He shakes her a little. "Oh no not the silent treament."

"Dude shut up," Marceline grips his wrist irritably. "I'm enjoying this." So he mans up and holds her quietly. As with the kissing and the touching, leaning into Marshall Lee is a novel sensation. He smells faintly of smoke. The contours of her back fit into him. Marceline sighs at the little things. "I think they're looking now."

"I'm just hugging you," he shrugs off curious eyes. "Also whispering sweet nothings into your ear."

"Bubblegum thinks we have a thing now."

"We totally do. Unless you faked it every time you went _Oh Marshalll~_"

Marceline gapes. "Marshy are you tryina do _relationship talk_?"

Her laughter hits him right in the dignity; Marshall Lee's entire upper body sags. He mutters _mm-hmm _into her shoulder. He's not so smooth when it's just the two of them.

"You don't have to," she tells him.

"I want to."

Or maybe he is. Marceline unclasps his hold because she's not about to swoon over that vague-ass declaration even if his quiet voice suddenly churns her heart-guts. "Just go for it. I think it works for ya."

"Fine."

"Fine."

And they head back indoors. Finn Jake and Bubblegum are gone from the windows; they probably got bored waiting for flowery reconciliation and a musical number along the lines of _Start Of Something New_. By now Marceline knows better than to expect cliché especially from _this guy _beside her.

"Hey," Marshall Lee goes for it. "Wanna go out tonight?"

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

Candy Kingdom has a drive-in movie theater on a hillside. Tonight's feature – _Super Slash Brothers 2_- is the latest thriller. Marceline hasn't been here in months (she and Finn got banned after that one time with a wolf pack) but the seating mechanics stay the same: snugglers in the front, actual moviegoers in the middle, and those getting frisky right up top where all that action isn't an eyesore.

Marceline and Marshall Lee sit right in the fifth row.

"Hey I love that guy," Marceline points at the sidekick. "Gimme."

Marshall Lee passes the 40-oz. cup of red slush. "I know. Stop chewing the straw."

"This is the real me."

"I know."

Headlights dim and the film rolls on 50-foot canvas screen. They still got it. Theirs is a perfect communion of passing the slushie cup and sharing reverence of Very Awesome Sidekick Actor Who's Also A Singer-Songwriter IRL. Marshall Lee yawns during an uneventful sequence but doesn't follow through with an arm stretching around her shoulder.

_This guy..._

Well to be fair Marceline isn't one to cuddle during gore either. Halfway through the movie, Marshall Lee's head twitches. She glances over and there's an elaborate paper airplane in his hands. He unfolds it, then snickers.

"What?" Marceline whispers. He shows her the breath mint inside. Somewhere behind them, Peppermint Butler Jake and Lady Rainicorn are betting on PDA to happen.

"Want it?"

"Don't need it."

The breath mint is tossed away but not the origami plane. Later on Marceline leans against Marshall Lee's shoulder though, just to see what he'll do. His arm finds her waist no thought required and stays there. His eyes stay glued to the climactic slashfest in front of them.

_This guy_...

… has her same priorities. Radical. Marceline turns her full attention to appreciate masterfully executed gore.

"Marcy?"

"Hm."

"_Marcy_."

Marshall Lee nudges her awake. Dim lights are back on and all around them the crowd mills out slowly. _Super Slash Brothers 2_ is over, no way.

Marceline curses. "I missed the post-creds?"

"It was dank. When did you doze?"

Good question. Probably around when her head found his shoulder. Marshall Lee looks amused.

"Shut up I'm mad," She scowls and gnaws the straw some more. But not mad enough to stop leaning. Was that a white mohawk over there just now? Oh well that's not relevant right now. Marceline is pretty sure he's as bad at thinking tier-related thoughts now but they've still got the hang of sitting together doing nothing. She never knew she was into sitting quietly.

"Hey," Marceline glances upwards. "This is a date right?"

"Does it feel like a date?"

"Like, unofficially."

Casually, Marshall Lee says "When I'm better, I'll ask you out forreal."

"Deal."

"Deal."

Their easygoing pace is too good to be true. She'll take it. Meanwhile, scattered pairs remain on the hillside. The smooching starts around this time and her ears are keen enough to hear. Marshall Lee catches her eye.

"Let's bounce," he says.

"Don't wanna get any ideas," she agrees.

"Who does that stuff anyway."

"So ratch."

"Isn't it?"

Marceline pulls him to his feet.

"Let's go do..."

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

Her head feels heavy which means last night was pretty dank. Something to do with an open mic? Flamba? She'll figure that out later when she's not half-awake with her thoughts in a haze. Marceline yawns; her arm brushes over the other side of the bed where Marshall Lee was in. The sheets are cold now, empty.

He did mention something about adventure time with Finn and Jake in the morning. Huh, so hereally did leave her for some manly-man quest. Marceline isn't that annoyed; he'll be back and it's not like she's his mother keeper or girlfr

Actually hold that thought.

Marceline doesn't feel like going out but she channels the power to rise. Getting up is way easier when she has this urge to let out girly feels on her bass while the house is conveniently empty. Marceline still looks like a banshee when she gets out of bed but today she's got this strange soaring elation around the area of her heart-guts. Oh no she's startin' to feel it and they didn't even do that much yet unless she's forgetting something.

They're winging it. Marceline can't imagine them going about this relationship any other way.

She's like half undressed already; she might as well float over to the shower and start singing there hey wait what's that on her bedside drawer?

Marceline pauses to say "Douche."

Marshall Lee left the other half of her clothes in a neatly folded pile.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

Sometime in the afternoon, the house phone rings. Marceline has Schwabl in her arms; she turns down the living room speakers and sticks the phone between shoulder and ear.

"Mar-mar."

She smiles.

"I thought you'd never call."

"I've been thinkin' 'bout you."

"Do you think about me still?"

"Do ya do y- what do you mean I can't sing it's _my_ phone call-"

"Marsh?" Marceline can't identify the gruff second voice. "What's going on?"

Marshall Lee is rubbing his head, she can feel it. "So you'll never guess where I am."

"Prison," she rolls her eyes. There's impressed silence on the other line – Marceline lets herself flop backwards on the couch. "You're _in prison _forreal? How'd that happen!"

"Well long story short... someone attacked a candy village last night. Apparently it was a vampire guy? Then me and the dudes passed by today and I got arrested. And now I'm in the Candy Dungeon. Oh yeah, Finn and Jake say hi."

"Finn and Jake went to jail with you?" Marceline says incredulously.

"Yeah, they were tryna stick up for me."

"This is hella random. Should I break you out?"

"You know that's a fantasy of mine? No lie. But nah Peebles and LSP vouched for me. They'd look bad."

"You couldn't have done it," Marceline frowns. It wasn't candy people he was messing with last night.

"Course not." Even their pervert-thoughts are in sync over the phone; Marshall Lee says "You were in a position to say so."

"So I'm your one phone call, huh?"

"Take me home."

Marceline gets up. "I'm coming. Don't pick up the soap."

"Hey Marcy," Marshall Lee says. "About that question last night... yeah. I wouldn't either."

She must've squeezed the dog too hard because he squirms out of her hands and leaves.

Marceline hangs up. This unfamiliar expression on her face lingers. Several minutes later she's out the door with an umbrella, headed for Candy Kingdom but with her current high Marshall Lee could probably get her to meet him in a different dimension. She almost misses the large, long package propped up on her front steps.

_Ain't nobody got time for you right now._

But she finds herself drawn to its shape. Marceline lays down the umbrella and picks up the package. Is this what she thinks it is because the weight and the feel is just like...

She rips off some of the brown packaging paper on the skinnier end. High-quality pegs on a red triangular wedge are uncovered. She rips off more paper.

This is a red axe bass, reminiscent of hers.

Marceline can't resist picking it up, just for a moment.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

**A/N: **AHH IT'S BOUT TO GO DOWN in like 2-3 chapters. Recap:

- Marcy and Marshall Lee just doing their thing on a new level nbd

- But then Ash leaves a present

- Oh no Marceline

- Dropped those hints errwhere

If anyone's wondering about the 'last night' thing it's vague on purpose for now. Next chapter will be in Marshall Lee pov because *spoilerr* Marceline won't be her fly self for a while. But I'm pretty sure everyone saw that coming?

I'm gonna write more tier stuff because why not. So I guess if you're not into explicit stuff... brace yourselves? But tbh it's probably nothing too bad nbd.

**s/n**: I'm slacking on updates now idk why I'll try to do once a week :[ But if my writing goes terrible too, dishonor on my famiree. Call me out on it.

* References: summa those Frank Ocean lyrics

THANKSS for those reviews! How was this chapter?

**Doctorrrrrrrwho**: Whoa now Marshall Lee can take his time probably

**monkey: **-CHOOO. Also this will play out dopely I'm hoping. We'll see

**journeyiscool:** Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure? Best movie. Last chapter just turned out short that way haha.

**Dani4Short: **I must :(

**For These Texts**: Every :( brings me joy

**kenneth: **Lool fave ALL the chapters man

**Marceleeregina**: Lol nice guess

**ZanyAnimeGirl**: Guurl Imma guy

**bangitrealgood**: Cock block... himself? Nah man

**Darktiger09**: You read my fic on the toilet? Lool noice

**SimplyPassingBy**: Hey that's pretty legit! I'll get another chapter in next week. Glad you like reading my stuff man, take care

**Guest**: Yeah I like to holla back

**observantrobin:** DANKE. Yeah I feel those feels too mayne

**Autumn Shadows**: Aw yis someone laughed, score. :B Thank you for anywhore my new favorite word forreal.


	12. Sidestory: Naive

**Naive**

I know she knows that I'm not fond of asking

True or false it may be, she's still out to get me

Just don't let me down

- _The Kooks_

* * *

**A/N: **Fluff alert. Jsyk so skip the first part if you're not feelin' it :)

* * *

Marceline pulls him to his feet.

"Let's go do..?" she suggests and vague suggestions are the best kind. They can play tug-of-war over who wears the pants in this semi-relationship later when her smile does not light up her face.

Marshall Lee grins back.

"Stuff."

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

Much later they stumble back into her house, cackling. Something about the bogus _stuff_ that went down at the graveyard or maybe it was at Flamba's bar because things always escalate quickly in Ooo, especially after then sun goes down. Tonight was like any other night of hanging around.

Marceline closes the door behind her. Her fingers roam for the light switch. Then it occurs to Marshall Lee that he's torn between giving this girl a high five and touching her waist and that's actually a pretty legit dilemma now that he thinks about it because she's just that much of a brotha _and_ a babe. Struggles so real. Marshall Lee settles for leaning over and kisses her cheek for no real reason. He lingers; Marceline is still.

"Do you realize," she says casually, "You didn't once make a move on me the whole night?"

He replies "PDA. Gotcha."

"Not what I meant."

"What _did_ you mean?"

Straight-faced, Marceline tells him "Make it up to me."

So the hands leave his pants pockets and draw her close. She obliges. A soft _thump_ tells him Marceline is backed into the door but she doesn't complain so she must be cool with that. It's only been like a day or two but they're going about this too easily, too well. The back part of his mind that isn't preoccupied with the feel of her thinks that's pretty dope. Marceline sinks a little. She stops kissing back but her lashes still brush against his cheek.

"Cool," she breathes out, fingers threaded at the back of his neck. "But that's not what I meant either."

Well he wasn't done yet but Marshall Lee asks anyway. "What, then?"

The curves at the corners of her mouth are faint. Marceline's left hand pries away his right and tugs firmly which is strange because she was pretty compliant not too long ago but anyway. Marshall Lee lets her lead him away. Past the living room, up the stairs, into her room. No big deal, he's been here plenty of times. He never bothered to watch her slide off her boots before, though. Marceline has nice ankles but he already knew that. The boots drop quietly. She floats over to her bed.

"C'mon."

His brows raise. "Is this what I think this is?" (But he's going forward anyway).

"Off," she frowns at his converse so he sits by her and undoes the laces.

"What're we doing?" Marshall Lee glances back. Marceline lies on her back holding up Hambo. Her ankles dangle off the bed and that skirt looks shorter than it is but that's because of long legs. Does she know he can see halfway up her thigh?

She tugs the sleeve of his shirt. "Lie down with me."

"What're we doing?" he repeats (but he freefalls on his back anyway). Her bed bounces but doesn't creak not that that information will be relevant any time soon probably. Hambo is tucked under one arm. Her other arm goes across his waist.

Marshall Lee thinks _is she forreal _and Marceline says "I'm 'a cuddler' remember?"

She burrows into his left side eyes closed in totally unsexy bliss and he stifles a snort with the back of the available hand. "Yeahh I'm not gonna wanna cuddle."

She takes his left hand and places it in the fringes of her hair. "Shh."

He's got a bad feeling she's been planning this. Swerve.

Marshall Lee can do rated-PG stuffs. His fingers run through soft hair. There are tangles here and there but he likes the hum she makes in the back of her throat so he smoothes over those too. At least _she's_ relaxed. But surely Marceline is aware that he's a _guy_ and a bit of a perv and it doesn't really help that the length of her limbs press against him. Then again she probably didn't realize until recently that ol' Marshy-poo does have some libido. Marceline murmurs _don't stop_ or something like that into his shirt; normally he'd comply and take things from there except he needs fast arm reflexes for tomorrow.

"I got this thing in the morning," Marshall Lee admits. "With Finn and Jake."

"Okay." One eye opens and looks up at him. "What kinda thing?"

"A guy thing." The other eye opens too and Marceline cocks an eyebrow. He relents. "Card Wars tournament. We're a three-man team."

Her quiet laughter stings. Marceline quickly adds "Er no, that's cool, I was just... _you're into Card Wars_ _how did that happen?_"

"When you went to Bubblegum's party and we were hanging out... they really got me into it." A lame summary that doesn't justify his new fondness for the complexity and the art of the game (actually _lifestyle _is the proper word) but Marceline doesn't need to know all that. "You know what just don't ask."

"Okay." She allows herself one more snicker in a rather mature fashion. "... wow."

"... yeah. Wanna come?"

"... not really."

Later Marceline goes "Hey Marshall."

He sighs. "What?"

"You're pretty sexy for a nerd." Marshall Lee groans but she's just getting started.

"Wanna _floop my landscape_?" Marceline asks, deviously innocent. Her arm tightens around his waist. The joke is actually not bad but he won't encourage her. "You'll have the _advantage_. We'll _discard _every turn."

"You only discard when you draw a _new_ card."

He's glaring and she's grinning and the sanctity of Card Wars won't ever quite sound the same again. Marshall Lee contemplates going _nanana not listening_. Marceline shoots him one more look. "Would ya rather _gank_ _me in the front_ or the _ba_-"

And the best way to convey _oh my Grod girl shut up _is to lean over and keep her face occupied.

"Wait," she breaks away, breathless. "I got one more pun about _battle phase_-"

"_Shh_."

It's a little premature to think so but she looks her best when she's under him, flushed and touching back. Marceline lets go of Hambo to hold him with both hands.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

She's cool with him leaving but she keeps him up anyway. He knows how to irk her too, though. At mid-morning Marshall Lee slips away from the sleeping girl and the soft covers difficult though that may be. He gets ready and heads out to the Ultimate Card Wards Tournament XLVII. But not before he takes her scarf and shirt and undershirt off the floor and folds them neatly for her as casual reminder.

"You dudes ready?!" Jake shouts later outside the tree fort. He's armed with four-leaf clovers, his lucky headband, and a lock of hair from his firstborn son.

"So ready!" Finn shouts back with almost as much energy but not quite because Jake's level of Card Wars passion is unmatched in three kingdoms. "BMO you sure you don't wanna hang?"

"I still do not play such games. With Jake." BMO's eyes narrow and it slams the front door shut. Unfazed, Jake starts off the road trip to Rock Kingdom discussing battle strategy. Team Supafly-Dog-Man-Kid is in it to win it.

"Nah man you gotta grab those areas asap."

"Too aggressive man we'll lose control!"

"Just husk man, husk the corn!"

Nothing sounds the same anymore and he keeps thinking about her smile her skin her laugh groddamit Marceline.

They're barely out of Grass Kingdom when Marshall Lee yawns for the third time. He's hitching a ride on bus-sized Jake with Finn and they're making good time so laying down in the back with his arms behind his head should be okay, right?

"Yo yo Marshall Lee!" Finn pokes his shoulder. "Wake up man, game face!"

"Mm I'm listening."

"Did you get your snooze on?" Jake calls out in front.

"Mm."

"Flobbin..!" Jake exclaims, alarmed. "I _knew_ those breath mints were too prime!"

Finn asks "What breath mints?"

Marshall Lee streches lazily. "It's cool. I'm straight."

"No way this is real biz we gotta get you some go-go juice!"

"Where?"

"Over there guys there's a humble candy village that'll have red-colored energy drinks for sure!"

So the three of them take a detour into the village convenience store. For a predominantly-candyperson community the village is quiet today. There are several banana guards marching around too. Marshall Lee supposes Bubblegum can't always hold off small-town crime in all corners of her kingdom.

"What's going on over here?" Finn asks the candy-corn cashier and she says something about an attack on licorice families last night. Marshall Lee busies himself in another aisle, the one with beverage and magazines. Looks like the _Scream Queens_ are on this month's cover of Rock Nation, should he get that for

"_Psst. Hey,_" Jake nudges. "Did you get your smooth on?"

"My wha- oh yeah, not really. Nice mint though," Marshall Lee replies.

"Of course." Jake walks off with packets of a certain breath mint brand. "Now to lure our rivals with minty freshness..!"

When Marshall Lee goes up to the counter, the store attendants tense up. Well to be fair he probably looks like a jabbawockee or some kinda celebrity thug sans grillz, with his hood up over a ballcap and shades and gloves for sun protection. He pulls the hood down and takes off the sunglasses.

"Not gonna rob I swear," he tells the cashier, holding up both hands and the Red Bull. "I just want this thingy here-"

The cashier gasps loudly. She's looking at his neck then his face then back to the neck. She pales. She runs out of the store, wailing.

"Wha-" Marshall Lee starts to say and the other attendant gasps too.

"It's him! It's the vampire!" He yelps and dives for that button under the cash register which, as a general rule, will protect a small business' dolla bills. Three Banana Guards rush inside in moments.

"Him! He did it!" the candy-corn cashier points from behind them and Marshall Lee throws cursory glances in case there's someone else in the immediate vicinity. A hefty guard tackles him, knocks the wind out of his sails. Yep she meant him.

"What gives!" Marshall Lee yells, cheek stuck to linoleum flooring and someone tell candy-corn girl to sweep it it's filthy.

"You sir are under arrest," a Banana Guard steps in front of him looking legit in the new standard-issue uniforms and rifles. "For the murders of Timmy and Johnny and destruction of three stop signs-"

"Who's Timmy and Johnny!"

"What _does_ give!" Finn runs over followed by Jake.

"Stand back." the third Banana Guard pulls out handcuffs. "This guy is a dangerous suspect in last night's double homicide."

"No way," Jake argues. "Marshall Lee was at _Super Slash Brothers 2 _last night."

"Tell 'em Jake," Marshall Lee agrees, tell 'em how I kept my hands to myself even when there's a babe on my shoulder oh wait _what have I (not) done..!_

"Sorry but we're taking you into custody." A great weight shifts (a relief because his back was going numb there). Marshall Lee gets lifted to his feet in one fluid motion. Damn, these guys are brawny.

"Wait you can't do that!" Finn protests. "He's innocent!"

"We've got a tournament to tourna-own!" Jake adds. "Look guys how about we meet up again in like 4 hours..."

Marshall Lee is not certain of anything that just occurred in the past thirty seconds except that he has shit luck in convenience stores. He's not sure what else to think. A guard starts searching his pockets and pulls out an origami plane and limited-edition cards lent from

Finn and Jake gasp.

"We're gonna have to confiscate this," the Banana Guard suspiciously eyes the cards which are labeled _Cerebral Blood Storm_ _Undead Blood-rage _and _Civilian Casualty, _among others. He sees Jake twitch. "Sir calm yourself..."

Jake's body moves on its own, possessed. He jumps for the cards going "_Nooo-oo-ooo _!"

"Jake no!"

"He's assaulting me!"

"Arrest him!"

"Gimme my babies – ow not the face not the-"

"Jaaake!"

In the end they all end up in the Candy Dungeon on count of several infractions. Mostly resisting arrest and assaulting an officer. Finn is a little dazed; being a hero on the receiving end of the law kinda blows. Jake is in a corner of the cell and no one mentions Card Wards or tournament prizes. The good news is that Princess Bubblegum vouched for their innocence via phone call. The bad news is that that means a lecture on law enforcement etiquette as soon as she finishes Very Important Princess Meeting #34 which takes hours, imprecisely.

Marshall Lee demands his one phone call because what kind of caveman society doesn't have Miranda rights.

"Stop the singing!" Banana Chief snaps irritably on the other side of steel bars.

"What do you mean I can't sing it's _my_ phone call!"

Even over the phone, her laughter warms his ear.

"I'm coming. Don't pick up the soap," Marceline jokes in lame taste.

Then it occurs to Marshall Lee that he digs everything about her, every lame little thing, like _a lot_. Then he thinks about one of the few snatches of conversation from last-night-or-this-morning.

_You know... what if this is really a terrible idea?_

Which was a strange question to ask when he's messing with the buttons of her shirt but Marceline was unfazed.

_You know... I probably wouldn't mind._

"Hey Marcy," Marshall Lee tells her quietly. "About that question last night... yeah. I wouldn't either."

And that seems like reassurance enough put off 'The Talk' for another day. When he turns from the far corner of the cell Jake is grinning.

"'_Not really'_, huh?"

"Yup."

He hands the phone back to Banana Chief.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

But Marceline doesn't come, not even by late afternoon.

"You don't think she ditched us..?" Finn trails off and stops playing hot potato with a rock. _You don't think she ditched Marshall Lee _hangs in the air.

The three of them agree "Nahh."

"Strange things are afoot at the Circle K~" an unfamiliar voice suddenly sings in the adjacent cell. They look up.

"Don't mind him he's just a hobo," Banana Chief drawls out, stub legs hanging over his desk. "Real warped dude, was giving out pee drinks to peoples."

"That's sick," Finn gasps.

"You belong in a museum," Jake frowns. The hobo sticks out a green pinky finger. Marshall finds himself wondering just what could be taking Marceline so long when she knows he might drop the soap then the hobo whispers again.

"_Psst. Hey. Hey you~"_

No one else hears. Marshall Lee edges closer – there's something familiar about this guy even though he's wrapped up in rags. Must be that homelessness vibe.

"Lemme do you a favor. A mystical magical favor~!" he sings.

"Uhh."

"Any favor, don't be a sissy~"

Marshall Lee loses interest. "Uhh remind me later."

At this time, Princess Bubblegum and Peppermint Butler enter the dungeon and request the release of three certain non-vigilantes. Banana Chief hands back their belongings. Surprisingly, Bubblegum's first priority isn't a reprimand for kicking her Banana Guards in the shins over cards.

"I must speak with Marceline," she says when they're out in the evening air. There's a small furrow on her pink brow. "Last night's incident needs her immediate attention."

"Heads gotta roll," Peppermint Butler adds.

"She's supposed to be here," Marshall Lee shrugs. Marceline must've run into a designer boots sale for five hours and he knows how she is about _boots_. Jake checks his phone for missed notifications. He yelps from the hundred ensuing beeps and it seems his phone has been hit up very frequently indeed in the past five hours.

"What, Jake?" Finn asks.

"Nothin' just LSP tweeting in all caps again," he answers dismissively but then looks again. Lumpy Space Princess recently decided to set up her own private investigation office; independent businesses are all the rage. She tweets her investigations without fail. Then Jake exclaims more loudly. "Fellas and Princess, look!"

Marshall Lee peers at the phone screen over other bent heads. The tweet is five hours old. He reads

**_"Lumpalicious973: MARSHALL LEE BETTER STEP UP YO GAME BRUH! #dramaupinheeyur #lolomg"_**

Attached is a picture of that _Ash _outside his trailer. He's smirking like one smug bastard and hugging thin air. A red handle is cut off the picture but it's clearly a floating bass guitar. It reminds him of Marceline's. Vampires don't appear in pictures but Marshall Lee already knows what that slender back looks like encircled by bare arms. He knows what those fingers look like, holding the neck of that red guitar.

"I think it's Marcy!" Finn exclaims, incredulous and rubbing his hairless chin. "But why's she over there? When she should be over _here_?"

"I'd go see that guy too if he got me a bass like that," Marshall Lee says casually. He _knows_ Marceline; she's got her own reasons for doing things, so there's no point in having stress feels, right? Meanwhile, Jake comes across another eye-popping message.

"Uhh guys? LSP left a voicemail..." He beckons and everyone gathers round. The phone goes on speaker.

"_Oh my Glob Finn? Jake?"_ LSP's nasally voice is disturbingly quiet and urgent. "_I'm at this like, low-grade trailer, real crappy, and Marceline just went in with her ex, and then I looked in the window and this other guy _clonked her_ man, just axed her on the hea-_"

Suddenly LSP starts breathing raggedly and over in the dungeon the anticipation is palpable. "_Oh Glob I think they heard me, they're coming, I'm too lumpalicious to die OH MY GLOB DON'T TOUCH ME I KNOW KUNG F-"_

And the message cuts off. Paused breaths are released. There's a moment of stunned silence. This unexpected, belated news bombs nerve endings.

Then Marshall Lee mutters "Well _shite_."

Darkly, Peppermint Butler says "I smell witchcraft."

"How do you know?"

"My nose."

For a couple of guys who handled an arrest situation pretty badly earlier, Finn and Jake take deliberate action.

"We'll go to the crime scene asap."

"You assemble the medics Princess."

"It's rescue time!"

"Yeah boy!"

And loud fist bumps are required for morale because it's been five hours since LSP's message when Marceline got _clonked,_ _just axed on the head. _Marshall Lee finds himself feeling strong feels that churn his insides. Fatigue is gone. It's hard to think straight right now. He'll rage about _dafuq is up with Ooo forreal _later.

"Are you alright?" Bubblegum's voice interjects.

Marshall Lee perks up. He answers "I'm good. Let's go save lives."

"And kick ass." Her eyebrows turn downwards. But she's too anxious to be angry.

Marshall Lee feels a tug on his pants. Peppermint Butler beckons him down and whispers "Strange things are afoot."

He frowns. "Say what now?"

"Marceline won't die. You gotta chop her and burn her flesh."

"Wow. Thanks."

"Marshall Lee c'mon!" Finn shouts; he's already on Jake and they're running off into the distance. Marshall Lee quickly takes off after them.

Peppermint Butler mouthed _strange things are afoot_ one more time.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

He's sure of one thing: Ash is getting his ass kicked. The friend too. There's already no question of Marceline being alright.

The trailer is visible at the edge of the forest. There's even a little bonfire going on over there. It's a mile away and so close yet so far and Jake's 50-foot legs don't run fast enough. Marshall Lee flies ahead.

Someone's waiting.

It's not Ash.

It's a vampire.

Marshall Lee lands nimbly in front of him. They're mere yards away from the trailer.

"Where is she?" he asks.

The vampire says "I've been waiting for you."

He's tall, slender. His blond hair is dull. His eyes are red, though; they glimmer. Marshall Lee has never seen this guy before or has he but he already feels like punching him in the face.

"Where is she?" Marshall Lee repeats because _priorities_.

The vampire frowns. "Rude."

This clown is about to get smacked aside into the azalea bush even if he's taller by a good three inches. Then the vampire says "But you were always an ass, Marshall Lee."

He stops. Somewhere close behind Finn and Jake are crashing through the undergrowth. Somewhere in that trailer Marceline and LSP are knocked out probably most likely. But Marshall Lee still pauses - the vampire succeeds in grabbing his attention.

Quietly, Marshall Lee says "You know me."

The vampire smiles.

"My name is Jerome."

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

**A/N: **So just to be clear, Marceline is alive and LSP too I didn't forget about you even if Marshall Lee kinda did lol what a dick. Next chapter is still Marshall Lee perspective because Marcy is still mia. RECAP:

- Aaand that's what went down last night.

- Surprise antagonist weee. I know I've said that I don't like having OCs but it seems like in AT fanfics, more often than not the villain is either Ash or the Lich King. Which is cool and all but you know what fuq dat mainstream let's have Jerome.

- Antagonists explain their schemes I'm pretty sure it's a stereotype so bunch of reveals next chapter

**s/n: **For those who were wondering let me explain why this took 2 weeks..

I went back to school and knocked myself outtt. Like Pacquiao kinda k.o. lol bless u manny but anyway I didn't make time to write anything...

So instead of taking like 2 weeks to write 4k words per chapter which is agony even if I ship these guys so hard I'll do around 2k words per chapter every week and hopefully everyone is happy and healthy and balances priorities :] Be well all.

THANKS FOR REVIEWS YO. Each one is dope to me.

**Marceleeregina**: Nah Marshall Lee didn't lose memories

**Doctor: **Rofl Ash does look like a mop. Swerve.

**OhHeyAl**: Fluffy like bunny

**Guest**: ik Q.Q

**lilysash97**: Ty I do aim for somewhat-math

**journeyiscool**: I'm a guy

**Guest**: Oh stop it you~

**deadly breathing**: Hrm I might do a tiers list. But tbh I like letting other people do the imagining haha.

**Sakura4128:** You're nice.

**Autumn Shadows**: lolwhat

**bangitrealgood**: lol I do catch

**Gabriella cole: **Oh lol sorry? Everyone is alive no worries

**ShadowHunted: **I think I paraphrased you in the tweet this chapter ty shoutout to you yay~

**Guest: **Ty for waiting I'll try to deliver don't die :)


	13. Sidestory: Rule My World

**Sidestory: Rule My World**

Only someone who's morally  
Superior can possibly and honestly deserve  
To rule my world.

- _Kings of Convenience_

* * *

**A/N: **I humbly present this very late very long chapter of plot reveals. Jerome perspective from the start of this story to last chapter so it's a trip. Leggo =D

* * *

No one comes to the castle remains anymore, but every few years he comes by to visit on this one night.

If he doesn't remember her on the night she died, who will?

Certainly not her 'king'. Jerome will never understand how the Vampire Queen in all her undead perfection can deliriously, irretrievably lose herself in _Marshall Lee_. She should've listened. He should've shouted. Or better yet, got rid of the problem while the problem was _mortal_. But she always did take as she pleased. So she took her plaything to keep forever or at least until she tired of him and no one in the entire royal court had to foresight think her demonic, incomparable vampire creation would be the end of order as they know it.

Marshall Lee tired of her first.

It's been a thousand years since she died and the castle was burnt to the ground, and Jerome has no royal order, no queen, no sister.

"He's on a quest, I heard," Jerome says softly to empty night air. He stands on what used to be the north tower and looks at the ruins below. Her ashes are long gone from here. "Imagine that. Your king hanging around little girls, looking for artifacts like he's some kind of hero."

It's been a thousand years and his searing hatred for the half-demon vampire king has simmered down. Still there, though. Marshall Lee won't corrode his noble composure, even if he already ruined everything else and doesn't regret a thing. But everytime, on this night, in these ruins, Jerome lets himself seethe.

There is no one word to describe this longing for a world that won't come back.*

"It's about that time again," Jerome says, lost in thought now. "Most of them don't care anymore, but there will always be vampires to covet the throne." He smiles ironically. "But did you really have to make him so accursedly strong?"

Twenty vampire nobles last time, each of them more skilled and with more mutinous intent than the rest. Marshall Lee walked off without a scratch. The bastard doesn't even bother to purgeanymore, that's how many fucks he gives about the vampire kingdom.

Once, decades ago in a rare encounter, Jerome asked him why he doesn't just give up the throne if he's really that bored of it.

Marshall Lee just said _I don't wanna._

"Look at what your greedy ass did," Jerome accuses the long-dead. Tonight is for sentiment. Jerome is particular about filth like anyone of his standing should be but for her memory he lays down his cloak and sits. As with every time, he'll stay here tonight and be alone and reminisce. How petty and weak and beneath him but she owes him that much.

Sometime between tonight and tomorrow, an alien sensation invades.

It interrupts his thoughts, disrupts him intimately like cold steel on warm skin.

It tears inside and outside and before he can stand up or be alarmed it turns into lights that swallow him whole.

Then Jerome feels himself land flat on his back as quickly as he felt himself vanish into thin air. A tingling feeling and a peculiar scent remains; he knows what this is. What just happened could only have been magic. Maybe the kind that begins and ends with portals. With difficulty, he stands. He's queasy. Also confounded. This kind of random inexplicable nonsense only happens to idiot mortals that go meddling in affairs beyond. Not _him_.

The night sky is the same but he's not at the castle in the north anymore. He's in the middle of barren hills – deep down south where all the warm-blooded weaklings thrive. And Marshall Lee.

Jerome is not alone. In the corner of one eye, down on the hillside below, he sees... red plaid...

What strange coincidence is this? He'd know that perfect hell-forsaken back anywhere.

Marshall Lee stays sitting as he landed, back turned, seemingly disoriented. He looks around, mildly astonished by his new surroundings. He always was slower on the uptake; kingship does not cure idiots. Jerome thinks he'll leave. It's a little petty but he won't enlighten the object of his murderous thoughts for the past few hours any time soon.

Jerome floats down silently. This isn't the first time he finds himself approaching Marshall Lee. It's possible that, in a very small very insignificant way, he's drawn to him like she was. Jerome resents that.

What he wouldn't give to run him through with a pitchfork.

Marshall Lee does not notice anything. He never does. Everything, everyone and Jerome is beneath notice. He stares up at the sky and the moon is that exact same sliver tonight as it was one thousand years ago when he did away with the vampire queen. Bitterly, Jerome can imagine that he's thinking 'Oh wait that's right...'

_That's right. Remember her._

Behind Marshall Lee lies a book. It looks old and tattered in the weak moonlight. Beside the book lies a red axe. It's _the _axe. He parades it around as a guitar but Jerome knows all too well what he's ripped with it in the past and it's not _radical tunes_.

Marshall Lee makes a dismissive _tsk _noise and all of a sudden Jerome snaps completely.

Who knew that's all it would take after one thousand years?

"_Damn _you."

And for all the old ways and for her and for himself that Marshall Lee ruined and gives no fucks about and dismisses now with a _tsk_, Jerome grabs the axe in an instant and swings. Rationale is gone.

Marshall Lee turns around in time for the axe to cleave him through. Jerome misses the neck but the axe goes through shoulder bone passes the torso and comes out the gut. No splatter. He knows how this is done. The victim drops. In that one second, a revelation: Marshall Lee on his back with that startled, vulnerable expression draws pleasure like no other.

So _this_ is what she...

Or maybe he's as fucked up as...

"You..!" Marshall Lee's expression turns lethal. Carelessness cost him reflexes but that he won't die like this. He's one of those fools that fortune favors and Jerome knows that and it's unfair so to hell with it all. Consequence doesn't matter anymore. Jerome swings again.

"DISAPPEAR."

The sick thud of metal on _his_ bones is not enough.

_Do you see me?_

_Do you see him?_

Marshall Lee snarls, chillingly feral, and slowly that dreaded other form bulges underneath broken skin. He's a lucky bastard _and_ he has a power-up. Life really is unfair.

Jerome erupts in the crazed laughter of one that knows he's totally fucked – where did his sanity go he had it just a few moments ago- and he takes off with the book _and_ the precious axe. Insult to injury. Air rushes past as large claws swipe for him and miss by some kind of miracle.

"_That's right,_" Jerome shrieks behind him. "_Look at me take your shit_."

The resounding snarl is that of the devil. There will be beating wings and great fangs overhead and that unfit half-breed of a vampire king will crush him easily even if he's Jerome, refined and well-bred and meant for noble things back in the old days. That's what happens when you're a mere shadow in someone else's story.

But Jerome is fast. Faster than Marshall Lee tonight. There's no other sound now besides that of wind rushing past. He doesn't stop until his skin starts prickling and he realizes that the sun is dawning.

Marshall Lee is nowhere in sight. Slowly, the crazed rush wears off. Slowly, Jerome starts thinking clearly again.

What has he done? '_Look at me take your shit'_? Seriously?

Oh, but it's too late for that. He needs a moment to think. Maybe a day. Maybe a year. Jerome heads into the forest below to think about the ways that he's _not_ totally fucked.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

No, he's totally fucked no matter what. Getting away with cutting Marshall Lee open at last is bittersweet victory.

Moodily, Jerome approaches a cabin in the middle of who knows where. An old candyman answers the door. Conveniently, he's an appealing red color. Jerome does away with him and takes up residence. No point in going back up north to the king's domain.

Jerome doesn't come out all day, just sits there and thinks. The axe and the book – magical heroic nonsense is what's written inside- have got to be good for _something_.

There's an old TV set in this cottage. There's a program about Candy Kingdom and a certain _Princess _Bubblegum.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

It takes him several days, several tentative excursions to remote undead towns, to realize that this place is... different...

He goes from incredulous, to stunned, to perplexed. He asks around, looks around, and after the first few times where lowly commoners looked at him like he was an alien or an idiot Jerome starts to realize he's _not_ in Aaa. That strange magic sent him to another world entirely. A gender-bent mirror image world, to be exact.

For whatever inconceivable accidental reason, Jerome is in the land of Ooo.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

It's too much to hope Marshall Lee bled out in the sun and withered. He's somewhere out there looking for his precious axe and Jerome's throat.

But now that they're both in a world they don't belong in, doom is not so inevitable. Jerome thinks he may come out of this yet. As he sits in the old man's recliner and stares at family pictures on the wall (will they visit soon perhaps), Jerome tries not to get ahead of himself but he already knows what the ideal ending to this scenario would be.

He'll get rid of Marshall Lee in this world, go back to his, take that throne back and everything will be as it should be over time with Marshall Lee forgotten and missed by no one.

Jerome laughs in reproach. Be realistic, now. He'd need some kind of wicked magician's help and a hellish lot of luck to pull that shit off. He better start off with what he has: an ancient war axe-turned-guitar and a sacred hero-tome.

The book ends up thrown into the ashes of the fireplace because what is he going to do with instructions for how to use _magycks fr thye greatere goode_.

Then something unusually loud from outside permeates the quietude of inside the cabin. Jerome's ears pick up on drunken male singing. His nose crinkles. Intoxicated blood is not his cup of tea. But the singing persists and it's grating his keen ears and how about he shut that guy up for good. Jerome has done worse for lesser offenses. He gets up, opens the cabin door, and steps out into evening air. His eyes are greeted by a spectacle and his ears assailed by racket.

"_I'm all out of loooove, I'm so lost without youuu~!_"

A pale, pointy-eared young man stumbles around. He's drunk to oblivion. His white mohawk is in disarray.

"_Something-something to late, to say that I was soo wroo-ong~!"_

Jerome just might be doing the forest a favor. He steps forward. The drunk stumbles right into him. He reeks of beer but something else makes Jerome pause. This guy has a wand in his pocket.

"See Mar-mar I know music too..." white-hair slurs happily. Black eyes look up and focus on Jerome's face and tight hands grab his shoulders. Distressed, he complains. "How come she's living with some guy now, man! He ain't got nothin' on the Ash-man! What's so great about _Marshall freaking Lee_?"

If Jerome paused about killing this guy off before, he finds it in him now to take the drunk inside and let him sober up. But first he leaves him facedown in the wisteria shrub outside as he pukes. The living are just too disgusting sometimes.

Come morning, the guy recovers coherence. As it turns out, his name is Ash and he's a (self-proclaimed) badass wizard.

"Thanks for the save man," Ash yawns groggily on the rug in front of the fireplace. "Last night was _rough_."

Jerome converses with polite interest. "You said something about a girl? And she's living with someone?"

Even hungover, voice hoarse, Ash is still a talker. "You know Marceline, the Vampire Queen? Wait of course you do you're a..."

"Yes. Sure."

"Anyway she used to be all over me and I was gonna get her back but all of a sudden she's got some vampire douche living with her now..."

Voice casual, Jerome says "Marshall Lee, was it?"

"Yeahh," Ash scowls. "You know him right? What a fairy."

"Quite."

And of all the inhabitants of this world, Marshall Lee _would_ find his identical other half. Two half-demon vampire rulers, like-minded and apparently joined at the hip now. This is not good.

"He even has amnesia like how sad is that."

Not so casually, Jerome says "Excuse me?"

"Yeah everyone says he's got head problems. Doesn't even know anybody or where he's from. Is her taste warped or what?"

"Really?"

"Really."

"Excuse me." Jerome repeats and goes into the next room.

Marshall Lee. Amnesia.

Marshall Lee does not know anyone or where he's from.

Marshall Lee does not remember what happened several days ago.

In other words, nobody knows anything except for Jerome.

What ideal fortune is this? Jerome's laughter comes from deep within his throat and shakes his shoulders completely and he ends up leaning against the wall. He's not fucked after all. As a matter of fact, the ideal ending just went from impossible to very much doable. Minutes later he's still shaking. He slides down to his knees and Jerome realizes that he's become weak with _relief_. He's not a goner. He didn't know he was that afraid to die to someone like Marshall freaking Lee.

Jerome comes back into the living room with retained composure and finds Ash holding the magic book out of the ashes. The look on the wizard's face is reverent. He touches the binding in awe.

"You like it?" Jerome plucks the book out of his hands. Ash jolts guiltily. It's possible he was thinking of running off with the book. Petty wizards.

"Like it? It's only like, _every wizard's dream,_" Ash echoes. He eyes the book hungrily and with the burning fervor of only the most die-hard fanatics. "This is the long-lost super-mythical ultra-sacred _Enchiridion II: Magic Edition _holy Glob where did you get this!"

"Don't worry about it," Jerome shrugs.

"You gotta let me have it!"

"I don't know..."

"I'll do anything! I can do anything with _this_ baby!"

These past few events are to good to be true and Jerome won't question how things lead up to them. Instead, he thinks fast. This can work.

"Well there _is_ something you can do for me."

Ash has no qualms. "What?"

"It may take a while but the both of us will benefit."

"I'm in let's do i- erm I mean," Ash coughs. "What's in it for me?"

"The girl. The book. And anything you can do with it, right?"

"How about you?"

Jerome shrugs again. "I'm after satisfaction, really. I've got a grudge against Marshall Lee."

"And?" Ash prods but he's already sold.

Ash doesn't need to know the whole story. Jerome smiles.

"I'll need you to cast a few spells for me..."

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

Ash is not as badass as he claims. But Jerome supposes that works out because an actual clever wizard would have peeked at the book already and tried to make off with it and gotten his neck wrung, which would be detrimental to both parties. Not surprisingly, the wizard also turns out to be quite the ass but that doesn't matter because this is business.

The Plot is simple. Kind of silly, really. Ash will get his old girlfriend back with magic. Marshall Lee will be left alone, Jerome will pick up where they left off, and then with magic he'll go back to his world alone mission accomplished.

A couple days into it, part one of The Plot comes across a problem. The girl isn't calling Ash back.

Ash is luring her over with a long-lost teddy bear (does that mean Marshall Lee was attached to such a thing?) but no response. Over the phone, Ash begs "Lemme use the book. I better use extra-strong love magic for this chick."

His accomplice is a dunce, but Jerome does not trust him or most anyone for that matter. He comes over to Ash's trailer with the book and watches him peruse the ancient pages. Apparently the Enchiridion II is difficult to decipher, because Ash spends hours into the night learning _How to Charm on Inanimate Objects_.

Oh well. It's not like Jerome has much else to do besides lie low. He's good at the waiting game unlike some people. Just before dawn, there's a knock on the trailer door. Ash answers and speak of the she-devil.

"Hey Ash. We won't take long. I'm here for Hambo."

Jerome sits quietly and Ash is discreet enough not to let the girl see the magical mess inside. So that's what girl-Marshall Lee sounds like. He despises her by default but her voice draws him in...

'_We_'?

The second voice outside belongs to none other than Marshall Lee. One wall and one door are all that separates them. Jerome could go up to him right here, right now except Marceline the Vampire Queen is here as well. After some scrambling around Ash gets his act together and hands over the bewitched toy and the identical pair leaves, none the wiser.

"What?" Ash asks when Jerome starts to chuckle.

"Nothing."

He can just see the look on Marshall Lee's face whe all this is over.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

The next night, Jerome goes north. It's a long flight but he doesn't lose direction. This world really is identical to his, barring gender. One day when he's not scheming for his life and for greater vampire good he'll marvel. The small coven that he (or rather she-him) belongs to should be just up ahead, residing deep within that old cavern overlooking the sea. Jerome confided in no one in Aaa and he won't to confide in anyone here. But he's not here to recruit. With his current luck he'll see his female self.

He sees a girl on the shore far below. She's petite. White-blond hair falls over thin shoulders and contrasts with dark attire and he already knows she'll look like a queen, like _her_. Jerome quietly makes his way down.

He approaches but the space where she floated is now empty sand.

He glances around.

She's fast, like him. She stands behind him, like _her_. The girl peers at the hood obscuring half his face and the both of them are too prim for such things as surprise.

"Alex? Is that you?"

So this is him in a gender-bent world and her voice face frame and expressions are all the same as his and also_ hers_. Jerome is looking at the Vampire Queen again – except this girl is not queen here. She's only the sibling, only him.

That means the Vampire King of Ooo looked like him.

"What do you want?" the girl asks in a way that makes him reel because the resemblance is far more real than he could've expected and she doesn't even know unless he says

_Come with me._

_We'll rule._

But she'll want to look at Marshall Lee and Jerome knows one look is all it may take.

Someone else approaches. Another cloaked figured floats in the distance, perhaps it's the real Alex and he's calling her name and _her name is even the same. _She looks away for a moment and that's all Jerome needs to disappear, he already did what he came here to do anyway. He has his own world to fix.

Some things you just _can't._

Jerome has been in the land of Ooo for more than a week (really? It's been that long?) and he can't wait to leave.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

What was supposed to be the easy part of The Plot turns out to be the most difficult.

"It's not working," Ash moans, flopped on a chair in the cabin.

From the rundown peasant-recliner that he's grown used to sitting in, Jerome raises an eyebrow. "So the spell is _not _supposed to take days?"

"I don't get it, Mar-mar _looves _that toy and I put _loove _in it," the wizard grumbles. "She's supposed to be all up my in crib again."

Wooing away Marceline in a natural way would take Ash too long, probably years to be honest, but the magic route isn't as instantaneous as Jerome expected. Half-demon vampires are truly, annoyingly resilient.

"It's cool though the Ash-man still on it," Ash continues, poring over another love spell in the book. For a fool, his dedication to The Plot satisfies even Jerome.

"Good. It'd be a shame if I had to get rid of you."

"Whoa now," Ash says defensively. "I ain't letting you down. I want my book and my girl."

Jerome has a new idea and it'll work. He nods at the axe-guitar propped up against the wall. "Take that. Get it fixed. She's obsessed about guitars the most, isn't she?"

"Yeah, actually. Hey she'll dig that it looks like hers!" Realization dawns on the wizard's face. "Then you want me to..?

"Exactly."

"I like this plan."

"Me too."

The axe has noticeable dents. As Ash leaves with it he asks casually.

"You like to chop, dude?"

Jerome says "You could say that."

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

Word of mouth indicates that Marshall Lee is more bent on sightseeing than recovering from amnesia and that suits Jerome just fine. The day they meet again is drawing close regardless of how quickly Marshall Lee gets better.

Jerome is no expert on wizardry, but Ash spends a long time deciphering the most potent love enchantment in the book. He _must _be intent on succeeding. And Jerome doesn't really care why but he asks, a little curiously, anyway.

"You really want your magic and your girlfriend that much?"

Ash, bent over the book again, just grins.

Jerome knows. "You're not really a hard worker, are you."

"'Course not. I'm just a regular guy believe it or not." Ash still grins. "So yeah I'm gonna want ultimate wizard power. And her ass, man. You'd tap that for days. Ya feel me?"

Ah, greed. The oldest motivation.

"Actually, I do."

And that's probably the only compliment he's ever given to a living person... This place is making him _common_...

"What's _your_ angle," Ash asks chattily like they're friends or something.

Jerome says "Just payback, really..."

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

"I know why the love spell on the bear didn't work."

"Didn't I tell you not to call me."

"Mar-mar was in love already."

Boredom vanishes and Jerome holds the phone closer. "What are you talking about?"

Ash sounds thoroughly pissed. He must not have worked hard for nothing before. "I saw them at the movies. She's not gonna have feels for me again, she's got feels for that clown. It's like, the Power of Liking Someone A Lot foiled us man."

"You're assured?"

"No, I know forreal."

Well this is unexpected. Jerome hates contingencies. "I don't care. Make it happen if you want the book."

"I know," Ash snaps like nothing will stand in the way of ultimate wizard power. "Don't tell me how to do my do."

But Jerome _is_ the the brains in this uneven partnership. "Don't ruin it."

Ash just hangs up. Jerome calls twice and gets no answer.

Idiot. What could Ash possibly do besides confront Marshall Lee and Marceline and possibly blow Jerome's element of anonymity?

Well. Ash may very well have gone over to the Vampire Queen's cave by now and started a ruckus and there's not much he can do about that. Jerome sits in the cabin and thinks of the possible scenarios. Worrying is a waste of time.

Jerome thinks he'll go out and grab a few candy villagers tonight.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

"What did you do?"

"I thought you didn't like when I called."

"Shut up."

"I didn't do blow your cover so chill. Anyway I was on another level last night. Finished the axe bass and everything. Then I dropped it off at Mar-mar's."

Over the phone, Jerome says "Well?"

"She'll be here. That guitar's got the most badass love charm in history."

"About time."

"You ready to go home, buddy?"

Jerome is glad he's revitalized with blood today. He'll take the book and an umbrella and make a stop first.

"I'll come by for the axe."

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

As luck would have it, Jerome arrives at the lowly trailer shortly after the Vampire Queen. The magic-infused axe lead her here as promised. But the most potent love-spell ever must work in strange ways because she steps inside Ash's trailer, shouting.

"Stay out of my life!"

"But Mar-mar I'm like the biggest love of your-"

"We're over you psycho!"

Marceline is tall, slender. Black hair falls down far past her back. And, like Marshall Lee, she's also deceptively strong because she waves the ancient axe in Ash's face like it weighs a feather.

"I should've known! You _would _give me stuff to use me!"

"We're so good together, I'm just tryna help you remem-"

"Why you so obsessed with me?" Marceline tosses the axe down and advances. "Take the spell off of Hambo."

"I dunno what you're talking about," Ash replies stubbornly and he's the only one that doesn't see a killer punch to the face looming.

"Ash."

"Yeah babe get closer, I'm soo scared."

Jerome watches them from the doorway and sighs. He can't have his wizard-tool getting knocked out. Ash looks past Marceline and sees him pick up the axe. Like Marshall Lee, she's fast enough to turn around but Jerome is faster. The hilt of the axe finds the back of her head and she falls into Ash.

Jerome is starting to think this axe really _is_ good for laying vampires low. That, or maybe underhandedly is the way to win at a disadvantage.

"Do it right." Jerome tells Ash curtly and tosses the book. "And ask her where Marshall Lee is."

He steps outside with the umbrella to compose himself. It's happening at last and unless Marshall Lee recovers memory and proficiency in the next few hours he's good as gone. Jerome isn't so wary now.

He hears loud whispering and turns. A puffy-looking purple creature is talking her cellphone beside the trailer. Something about helping Marceline. Jerome approaches. She sees his shadow before she turns around.

"... _they're coming, I'm too lumpalicious to die OH MY GLOB DON'T TOUCH ME I KNOW KUNG F-"_

Jerome grabs the phone and snaps "Who were you talking to?"

"Mr. Sexy Vampire-Man don't eat me," the lumpy-space girl wails. "Don't axe me on the head either I have a bright career ahead of me."

"Maybe I won't," Jerome says impatiently, towering over her. "_Who were you talking to_."

"I... uh... my friends... it went to voicemail so-"

"_Who?_"

His eyes are blood-red today. The girl gulps in her corner.

"Finn-and-Jake-and-Marshall-Lee please don't eat meee!"

Jerome thinks he'll never get used to the constant surprises in this world. Good thing he won't have to. "Marshall Lee is coming here?"

"Oh totally, him and Marceline are soo together like that."

Marshall Lee will come for his identical other and by nighttime Jerome will be on his merry way back to Aaa.

"Get lost," he tells the girl with a look that implies _or else_.

"Can I get my phone back?" she asks hopefully. "I'll take a cab."

"Now," Jerome snaps and she flees without.

Inside the trailer, Ash's magic looks promising for once. Jerome throws Marceline's prone form a cursory glance and he's not surprised that he likes her face and there's no point delving into why that is.

"Change of plans," he says. "Make the portal."

"Fine," Ash replies. "I'm done anyway."

Fair brows lift. "Is that so."

The wizard is stung. "Hey now. I know how to do unconscious bodies okay."

"That's underhanded."

"You know it."

Jerome leans by the doorway and waits as Ash reads the _How to Go to Your Gender-Swap Dimension _chapter (how convenient is that but he's not complaining; whoever sent him to Ooo needs to take a lesson). Marceline lies still on the sofa and her likeness to the king is distracting and where is that oaf anyway he's starting to pace.

"What's your deal dude, _chill_," Ash says. He's halfway through the text and Jerome thinks this ancient magic business is the utmost dreariest. "Watch TV or something."

As if. Jerome looks disdainfully at the small screen on the other side of the room. The news blares softly and goes ignored by Ash, but Jerome picks up on something.

'_The suspects have been released and cleared of all charges moments ago. The true killer remains at lose..._'

Three mugshots show onscreen. One is familiar and it's actually a hilarious caricature because vampires don't show in photographs. Jerome watches for a few montages more. It seems that Marshall Lee and his little friends were apprehended for the drinking spree he went on last night, how annoying is that?

Oh hell, he can't with this world. For the second time in weeks Jerome is against the wall and weak with laughter and this is something to jibe Marshall Lee about later when he comes rushing in orange suspenders.

Ash eyes him as he waves his wand around experimentally. "You know, for a fancy guy you're a real psycho."

Jerome can't say he's wrong.

"She's right, by the way," Ash says absentmindedly as he goes about his magic business. "I've never obsessed about anyone like this before."

By now Jerome knows how to tune this guy out. But then his ears catch 'get married' and 'right now'.

"I wanna do it," Ash is saying, looking determinedly at the glimmers of magic in his hands. "Like, you probably think I'm a total douche and I tricked her and stuff, which I did, but I'll start off forrel this time."

Jerome raises both eyebrows again. "Are you serious? Is this going where I think it's going?"

"That's right," Ash declares like he's been sure of this for five years and not five minutes. "When Mar-mar wakes up I'm gonna ask her to marry me."

"Oh, _Ash_."

What is up with everyone's timing in this world it's all ridiculously impeccable. Marceline is newly awake, blinking prettily and tucking her hair behind one ear.

"Oh... hey Marceline," Ash turns to look at her with a tentative smile that she returns in full.

Marceline gets up with uncommon grace. This is not how she looked at Ash an hour ago. "You really mean that?"

"I do."

"Oh Ash. Me too."

Tender embraces are coming.

"Mar-mar!"

"Ash!"

"Mar-mar!"

Jerome leaves for the outside again because this is the closest he's ever been to dying of laughter and gagging at the same time which does not befit a noble. What a farce. The sun is setting and shadows grow heavy and soon, he'll be out of this big fat farce of a place.

A while later, there's a bright blue flash inside the trailer and a heavy air is in the atmosphere. Magic. Ash calls out "Hey man check it out! One-way trip to your crib!"

Jerome finds a swirling vortex of light in the middle of the room. Ash is pleased with himself and with the admiring girl wrapping an arm around his waist. Jerome comes closer. On the other side of the light he can see the ruins and the tower up in the north.

That is Aaa.

"Am I badass or what!"

"I didn't expect this from you." Jerome admits.

"Hehe."

"Ash says you helped get us back together," Marceline addresses him for the first time. Those eyes, that face. He has never seen anyone so genuinely overjoyed through fake means. "Do you wanna stay for the wedding?"

"We decided to do it now," Ash explains. "I mean, why not, this is such a big day for m- us."

"My, what a big step," Jerome says. "Congratulations."

"Couldn't have done it with you."

"You could be our witness."

"It'll be cool."

"Definitely."

Jerome politely declines on the pretext of 'missing home'.

"Later, then," Ash shrugs. "Hey you think I'd make a good Vampire King?"

Marceline laughs. Jerome resists the sound.

"Goodbye, wizard."

"You have fun over there. Or whatever you vampires do." Ash takes the girl and the book though the order of importance between the two is unclear, and waves his wand. "_Ash-icus fly-icus!_"

They disappear and Jerome is alone in the trailer, with the blue glowing portal on one side and the red axe lying on the other. There's one more thing left to do.

Marshall Lee will come. He'll see that incomparable expression one more time.

Jerome takes the axe and waits outside.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

The King swoops down in front of him. He looks so common in those street clothes. The furrow on his brow betrays his somber expression. Jerome has not seen this face on him before – probably because Marshall Lee has never been concerned about anything or anyone is his life.

The first thing Marshall Lee asks is "Where is she?"

Even in amnesiac state, those green eyes slide over Jerome with no more than slight interest. The trailer gets more scrutiny.

"You were always an ass, Marshall Lee."

That gets his full attention.

_That's right. Look at me._

"My name is Jerome."

And for once Marshall Lee studies him, wonders about him, and doesn't know what to think. Perplexed is a good look for him.

"How do you know me?" Marshall Lee asks, displeased that a stranger knows something he doesn't. He looks at the axe and sees a bass. "Wandering minstrel, are you?"

Not even the precious bass rings a bell. Jerome shakes his head. "You really remember nothing, then? I'd heard as much."

Already, Marshall Lee is bored of him. Already, he passes by. "Cool story; how about me and you catch up later cuz I'm looking for a girl-"

"Wait!" Jerome demands. His fingers catch a shoulder and Marshall Lee is wrenched back. "Aren't you going to ask me about myself?"

The fingers are shaken off. "What the hell for!"

"Ass."

"Creep."

They scowl at each other; as he does with everything else, Marshall Lee is ruining this moment without even trying. Then he looks at the red handle in Jerome's other hand again.

"That's an _axe_-bass." He stares at Jerome. "You're that friend. You're in league with Ash."

There's no chance to jape – a hand shoots out and grabs the front of his shirt. Jerome is taller but he's pulled upwards to face the full brunt of a glare.

"I don't know who you are. I don't know what you want." One can almost believe that Marshall Lee does know how to do what he forgot he can do. "I don't care – you don't matter. _Where is she_?"

You only live once, they say?

Jerome says "She's not here."

Grips tighten; one on black cloth and the other on a red handle. Then Jerome raises fair brows. He whispers "Oh my."

He knows what he sees right now.

"Are you _in love with her_, Marshall Lee?"

Marshall Lee bats no lashes, not even when Jerome starts chuckling. It's a bit lonely, actually, to be the only one to who understands these ironies, but laughter is laughter. He's not one to talk but Jerome says "Do you realize that's, well, your _sister_?"

"Get lost," Marshall Lee hisses and drops him as one drops a rag. He storms off and throws the trailer door open like he's not even worried about the vampire with the dented axe behind him. The axe should've been swinging a minutes ago.

_If I don't do it, who will?_

He knows what to do. Jerome never expected to get away with this without a scratch (though one can hope) and Marshall Lee will never be this weak again. He follows him inside. Marshall Lee stands, transfixed, before the swirling mass of blue magic. Aaa is just beyond.

Jerome asks "Remember something?"

Marshall Lee replies "No. Not really."

He remembers nothing, absolutely nothing. He'll never know how much of a bastard he is and how fitting it will be to have him forgotten, missed by no one.

And in that moment Jerome admits that he's fooling no one. He's not doing this for vampirekind, he just want to see _that face_. This pitiful shell won't make _that face_. Quietly, he says

"When you remember, come find me."

Marshall Lee barely turns. "What?"

Succinctly now, Jerome says "They went to go get married."

"_What_?" Oh, _now_he turns. "You're kidding. She wouldn't."

"I am not. She's under a spell. Several, maybe."

"Where?"

"Haven't a clue. Better hurry, now."

Marshall Lee is already on the way out, swearing _dafuq is going on_under his breath.

"You really won't ask me about myself, will you," Jerome says as Marshall Lee passes him again with nary a glance.

Marshall Lee throws an irritated look over one shoulder. "I don't talk to strangers."

Jerome holds up the great axe lazily. "Come find me."

"Creep."

And then Marshall Lee is gone but soon enough, he'll be the one that comes.

Jerome knows what he's doing. Always. He turns the other direction and floats into the light. It disappears, taking him along with it, and for now Marshall Lee is a world away.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

"Jerome," the elder says, surprise on a face as smooth as stone and just as old. "You've returned."

He smiles. "I'm here with a plot."

"Aren't you always?"

"This one speaks for itself."

The great axe is withdrawn from the folds of his cloak. He holds it up to the light of the candles. The others murmur around the long mahogany table. "That's... How did you..?"

Jerome is still smiling.

"Ask me how I've been doing."

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

"What took you!" Marshall Lee exclaims. Finn and Jake are just now coming out of the woods.

"We found LSP!" Finn sits up on Jake's back and sure enough Lumpy Space Princess is there too, wrapped in a blanket with leaves and twigs in her hair and shivering from what resembles PTSD.

"I saw many things, during my time in the forest," she stares fixedly at thin air. "Things no man woman child and chubby baby should ever see..."

"Poor thing she's totally out of it," Jake says. "Did you find Ash and Marcy?"

"They're getting hitched we gotta stop them," Marshall Lee replies.

"Whoa, how did _that_happen!"

"Whoa, how do you know!"

"I..!" But that guy Jerome and that roundabout conversation is a story for another day or maybe never. "I'll tell y'all later, we gotta find them."

"The nose, Jake," Finn pats the back of Jake's head. "Use the nose."

"Homies I need a scent," Jake says. "Something that smells like Marcy. I ain't smellin' that Ash guy."

Marshall Lee procures the origami plane that the girl in question stored under her shirt the whole time they were out last night because, in her words, _I ain't throwing this away it's gonna look killer on my bookshelf_. Jake takes a few expert whiffs. "Smells like breath mint. And blue jeans. And 32B lace push u-" Then the dog gasps and Marshall Lee is a believer in The Nose. "Ohoho, you sly brotha you!"

Finn says. "What? 32 what?"

Marshall Lee says "I like it. It's my fly-ness plane."

LSP shrieks "LEAVES. THEY USED LEAVES."

"Hang in there LSP I got the scent!" Jake says. "We'll follow that trail!"

"What trail!"

"That trail that we blaze!"

Jake runs like the wind with three passengers on his back and there's no question that they'll get to their destination in time to say _I object_. The evil spell probably won't be undone with kissing though. Still, they'll think of something. Marceline probably won't be in a white virginal wedding dress that he can make fun of afterwards.

_Sister._

_Do you realize that's your sister?_

The words nag and Marshall Lee puts them in the back of his mind, but there's something about them that won't be denied. That's okay, though. He'll sort out that nonsensical conversation later.

The other vampire is out of sight, out of mind, forgotten and missed by no one.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

**A/N: **Because all bad guys have a story too unless we're talking _Transformers_. So anyway Jerome was behind everything, he's a complicated soul, and he's never getting his own chapter again b/c emo feels too stronk for me though I regret nothing. Much respect to those who do write the heavy feels.

Back to cool stuff and MarceLee next chapter. Will Ash get his ass kicked? Will the Power of Liking Someone A Lot prevail? And what new career path will LSP take? Idk yet but stay dank errbody. Still working on the faster shorter chapters thing.

* Haha but there IS a word! Cough cough saudade. Bestest most poignant angst word.

** Stole some lines from _Taken _and _The Road to El Dorado_...

THANKS for those reviews! Like always, each of those makes me feel cool. Drop me another how was this chapter? :D (I like writing advice too unless it's about oxford comma fuggetdatshit.)

**Dani4Short: **Feel ALL the feels.

**monkey: **Ermgerd.

** .me:**Haha. I am glad.

**ShadowHunted: **Ikr ;o

**DanieruChann**: Yoo Ez is my boy or maybe girl as some may say xD

**Doctor**: Aw that's not cool. No slamming the ladies here have this band aid.

**observantrobin:**Ahaha the smut will come eventually because challenge accepted.

**Guest**: Yes, Jerome is bad

**SimplyPassingBy**: Me too :( Lilly Allen cover is not bad!

**Gabriella cole**: oh shiz I will

**radical dame**: Yeey someone found it suspenseful

**bangitrealgood**: Church forreal? Bad child. Huehue.

**MaisieTheFReAk**: Marceline is under a spell right now

**ajachowder1**: Oh hello ty for reading _ur_ awesome =D


	14. Sidestory: For The Girl

**For The Girl**

She was breaking my bones when

I was busting their noses

_- The Fratellis_

* * *

She's under a spell and she's getting married.

She's going to be Mrs. Ash "Trailer park chillin" Gotta-zap-em-all-hurpdurp-gorilla.

Marshall Lee actually finds that somewhat funny – unless of course they're too late, and Marceline is already making celebratory honeymoon sandwiches on her knees going _Ash-baby you want fries with that?_

Now he frowns.

"No stress dude!" Finn yells over the wind. "Ash got nothing on you."

"Yeah man, you're like Marcy's #1 bro," Jake adds.

"Twin-bro, yo!"

"Brotha-from-anotha-motha!"

"Holla!"

"Thanks guys just what I needed," Marshall Lee says dryly since _brother_ isn't really something he wants to hear right now.

Marceline's trail leads to the middle of a desert city, the kind with numerous hotel-casinos and fountains that squirt fancy waterworks at night. Figures that Ash would come here – where else could you go for drive-thru weddings? They arrive in front of _Best Little Chapel_ and for Marceline's sake he's glad that this joint, at least, looks respectable enough to be in a medium-budget movie. Jake shrinks down to normal size and everyone hops off in a really cool way except for Lumpy Space Princess because she still has some sort of PTSD from earlier. It's time for epic wedding crashing. But first, some words of legitimate wisdom.

"Remember Marshall Lee," Jake advises. "True love's kiss will break the spell."

"Is true love open mouth or..?"

"Start slow then go with the flow."

"Gotcha."

Then Finn and Jake push the chapel doors wide open.

"OBJECTION."

The scene before them doesn't look that out of ordinary. It's just a guy and a girl halfway through a quickie wedding with a wolf cleric standing between them. They look up, alarmed, at the intruders.

Ash says "_You _dweebs?!"

LSP says "_Tony_?!

The cleric/Tony howls "_A-woo-woo-ooo?_!"

But the only one of significance is the girl at the altar in blue jeans and flip-flops. Moment ago Marceline was smiling and radiant and truly madly deeply lovestruck but now, she's astonished. Her hands slip from Ash's. "What're you guys-"

"Ash did a magic thing, Marceline!" Finn points.

"Yeah Marceline, you're getting wangled into wifehood!" Jake adds.

Ash retorts "You're not invited get outta here shoo."

Finn gasps. Jake narrows white eyes. And the argument takes an ethical, explosive turn (Jake's ancestors didn't struggle so that pale-face Ash gets to use the s-word, that's _their_ word, ignorance is no excuse). But over loud voices, Marshall Lee can still hear Marceline ask "What's going on?"

She looks right at him. He's three steps away. She looks the same as always but something isn't quite right. Marshall Lee says "Marcy don't marry this guy."

"But I want to."

"He's _making_ you want to."

"My mind is made up," she pouts and her eyes speak volumes. He realizes that _this_ Marceline will make a dank sandwich out of love and devotion and you wouldn't even have to wrestle her into the kitchen, she'll sashay over there like a princess. "Marshall Lee I thought you'd be happy for me."

Oh so that's what's wrong. She's wife material now.

Marshall Lee makes a face. "What sorcery is this!"

"Stop being mean!"

"Don't marry Ash!"

"And why not!"

"Because I..!"

The whole room falls quiet and all eyes are on Marshall Lee because surely, what he'll say is the stuff great romances are made of.

"Because you _what_?" Ash's voice jeers but irrelevant background noise is irrelevant. Marshall Lee steps forward.

"Because_..."_

Well, she always approved of winging it. He takes her hand and Marceline doesn't look away, even though she blushes when his thumb runs over her knuckles in a gesture more intimate than intended. His other hand withdraws a simple gold band from his pants pocket.

"... _I _have a real ring."

"Ohh _snap_," Finn and Jake gasp because, as everyone can see, Ash got his last-minute wedding rings from _Family Dollar_. Ash scoffs loudly; wizard-ex-boyfriend powers beat not-really-boyfriend powers – right? Marceline stares at the very simple yet very legit ring, held up just for her.

"But that's..."

"My pimp ring? Yeah."

"Are you asking..."

"You to be my hoe? Well no. Not yet, anyway. You don't have to be anything, just..." Marshall Lee mulls over the line between overkill and understatement and settles for "Don't wear his. Wear mine."

Marceline's expression is strange.

"Break it to him babe," Ash taunts, confident, not even worried about the hand-holding.

"I..." Marceline frowns. Marshall Lee can't imagine the kind of conflict going on in her head, but it shows in the furrows of her brow. This struggle is real. Sooner or later, though, he knows she'll come around.

"Also, if you get hitched I'd have to move in with Jenny," he adds just to speed things up and just as quickly, her brow twitches.

"Get molested, see if I'll help you," Marceline hisses – all traces of domestication gone in an instant- and that settles that. Not-really-boyfriend powers win.

"_A-ooo_," Tony howls and everyone jolts. Oh, right, the cleric is a wolf and Grod works in mysterious ways. "_Ooo-o-oo_."

"I got this you guys." Perchance, LSP is fluent in the language of the forest creatures since thirty minutes ago. She comes forth and translates. "What Tony means is- I mean Pastor Tony- how did that happen Tony you're not even bald- well anyway, Marshall Lee you totally moved him. Now he's totally on your side."

Marshall Lee blinks and Ash says "Are you serious?"

"_A-wooo.._."

"'Marceline, you clearly have the hots for Marshall Lee'."

".._oo-ooo_..."

"'And Ash your game lumpin' sucks'."

".._ooo_."

"'Worst couple ever. So not worthy in the eyes of Grod. Wedding's off, Tony out.'"

"What!" Ash exclaims furiously and stomps after the cleric. "Hey come back here, stay!"

"You can't use that word!" Jake growls and stomps after Ash and Marshall Lee tunes out everything else after that. Marceline steps down from the podium, rubbing her temple and complaining about a killer headache. The plastic ring on her left hand is promptly discarded.

"How you feelin'?"

"Peachy." Marceline looks around as if just now realizing the situation. "Um, wow. I'm not lucid right? This just happened forreal?"

Did she get fooled by and almost marry her psycho ex?

One day she'll look back on this and smile like he does, probably.

"_Plastic rings_, Marcy."

Marceline grits her teeth. "_I'll kick his ass_."

"He went that way."

But there's already a line for the Ash-kicking event. The wizard is surrounded by two barking, ethically-offended canines, Finn, and LSP. It's not quite the man-to-man showdown that Marshall Lee somewhat expected but this is cool too. Marceline can line up before him; it's _her_ virtue at that was at stake anyway.

"I don't gotta put up with this! I do magic!" Ash bellows. Then he pulls out a wand and a thick, ancient tome. "KNEEL."

Finn exclaims "Look, Jake!"

"Everybody get back!" the dog shouts in alarm.

"That's right! I have the long-lost super-mythical ultra-sacred _Enchiridion II: Magic Edition_!" Ash declares. If he was overbearing before, he's far worse now. His wand glows. The air around him suddenly crackles with ancient, unsurpassed magic. Everyone takes a tense step backwards because ultimate power in the hands of a dumbass is still formidable.

"There's nothing I can't do now Mar-mar," Ash promises, staring straight at Marceline. Unnatural winds make her hair sway.

Marceline frowns. "You did all this for me, Ash?"

"You're my best girl."

It's not like she's also rich and has a nice butt or anything, but of course Marshall Lee doesn't need to remind her about that. Marceline rolls her eyes. "We're. Over. You psycho."

"Fine go date Marshall freakin' Lee," Ash snaps. "We'll see who's laughing when I take over the world!" And the power levels in the room rise to over 9,000 as the wizard opens up the Enchiridion II. He starts to chant. "'_How to rule the world: Infinite Tsoo...koo...yoh...mee. _The hell, this isn't even English-"

_Thump._

Marshall Lee's fist finds its way to Ash's stomach. He crumples. Lights fade. The book and the wand drop. And the formidable magic that was going to threaten the earth is unceremoniously nipped in the bud.

Ash coughs on the floor. "You... you interrupted me, bro! Who _does _that!"

"Dumbass," Marshall Lee snaps. He throws in a kick to the ass. "You don't seriously think I'll stand here and watch you read that shit?"

"Yeah, dumbass!" Finn jumps on Ash's back and the rest join in though Jake mutters something about _watch that mouth mister._ The air fills with beautiful sounds of major Ash-kicking.

"So that's it?" Finn asks when the dust settles. "Marcy, you're freed from the spell?"

Marceline shrugs. "Guess so."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"It's the Power of Liking Someone A Lot," Jake says and Finn leaves the matter at that.

Ash grumbles insensibly, looking swollen. He'll probably lie prostrate on the floor like that for a few hours. His wand is broken from the fray.

"Justice prevails," Jake spits and takes the Enchiridion II for heroic safe-keeping.

"C'mon you guys," LSP says benevolently and puts an arm around each hero. "Let's go home. You too, Tony."

They leave Ash and the wedding incident behind them. The chapel doors are swung open and they go out into the night...

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

Princess Bubblegum is so relieved no one got axed in half that she throws a party that very night. Girlfriend knows how to celebrate, albeit not like LSP; her courtyard overflows with food fireworks and friendly citizens.

Marceline tends to ditch him whenever a girl or several come over to chat. Marshall Lee never really bothered to call her out on that habit before, but tonight he excuses himself from the Bikini Babes and goes off to do just that.

Bubblegum intercepts him by the punch bowl.

"Marshall Lee, a quick word?"

You don't say no to someone who hands you a big red lollipop. So they take a stroll through the hedges and, true to her word, Bubblegum gets right to the point.

"Do you _like_-like Marceline?"

Straight-faced, Marshall Lee says "I do."

"Do you want to date her?"

"I do."

"I figured as much." Bubblegum comes to a halt and she looks up at him frankly. "Now don't take this the wrong way, Marshall Lee, you're one cool homie and all, but frankly... you're a bum." Well, can't argue about _that_. Bubblegum continues. "You have amnesia, you're unemployed, you have no past references..."

Marshall Lee rubs his hair. "I'm also attractive?"

"Yes, very," Bubblegum agrees. "In fact you and Marceline could be identical twins."

Ow. Right in the feels. How does someone so petite hit so hard in the feels that he sucks on a lollipop for comfort?

"What I'm saying is, homegirl needs to upgrade. She's way too math for another bum boyfriend."

"Yeah. I know." Marshall Lee can appreciate the legitimacy of this chat, unexpected though it may be. "Don't worry about it princess, I'm still getting my stuff together."

"I figured that, too."

And Bubblegum takes out a single pill from her pocket, round and pink and contained in square plastic.

"This," she explains proudly, "Is the new Memory Pill 300. Instantly cures amnesia."

Marshall Lee stares. He floats forward and squints.

"Are you serious?"

"Go and get your stuff together." Bubblegum hands over the pill in all scientific seriousness and this is no joke. Marshall Lee is suddenly mesmerized and yet ridiculously hyped up about one small pill.

It's been four weeks of retrograde amnesia.

This is it.

"I..." Marshall Lee finds himself wondering "What if the real me is hella different?"

Bubblegum actually _smirks_. "Doubt it."

And he was going to keep calm and maturely rejoice except oh shit, oh shit, this is it he'll remember, this is some dank shit. Marshall Lee manages to pat Bubblegum's shoulder and say _thanks princess you're the shit_ before flying off.

"Take it easy you're gonna have a butt-ton memories!" she calls out but already her voice is far away.

Eventually he finds Marceline talking to some princesses, probably about boots, but he hands her the lollipop and takes her away anyway, easily.

"Guess what. Guess what."

"What, Marshall Lee?"

They're outside at the castle walls, away from the lights the noise and the festivities but she can't possibly miss how wide he's grinning. Then before he can actually say anything else, Marceline quickly says "Wait me first."

Marshall Lee is pretty sure this isn't what kissing a sister is like. The tilt of her head and the movements of her mouth make the world a better place.

Soft lips curve up against his. "Thanks, by the way."

"No problem," he whispers back.

"And... sorry I bailed..."

"Shh."

They could do just this for hours. Actually, they _have_ done just this for hours. Her fingers weave together at the back of his neck and he pulls her hips close but too soon, Marceline leans away no wait come back.

"You were gonna tell me..?"

_That I like y_

No, that's not it, and she knows that already anyway. Her hip is kinda bony but Marshall Lee is still loathe to let go and dig into his pants pocket.

"Guess what?

"What?"

He holds up the Memory Pill 300.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

"Oh shit. Oh shit."

"I know."

"Oh shit."

Marshall Lee rolls his eyes. "Freaking _chill_."

"Suspense is killer okay," Marceline snaps. They're back in her kitchen as per usual after any night of hanging around. But does she have to fold her arms like that and watch like a hawk as he opens up the pill?

"Hey," he muses, pill in one hand and juice box in the other. "What if I really am a pimp?"

She stifles a sarcastic _mhmm_. "Oh that reminds me, take your ring back."

"Nope. Hands are full."

"Fine."

"Fine."

The pill is promptly swallowed along with the contents of the juice box. Marshall Lee doesn't tell Marceline that he's glad he broke into her house and got amnesia and got to know her; he'll rephrase that sappy shit later, much later in the future when they're one of those insufferable couples joined at the hip. He'll tell her later about what being with her is like which is existential heaven.

Nothing really happens at first. He must have a long gullet.

Then instantly. The memory pill works _instantly_.

One instant, one thousand years of memories. They come rushing, they're a flood, they're indescribable overkill on the ego and the senses but

this

is how

it should be.

He reels.

**\/\/\/\/**

He was just minding his own business when those heroines came crashing through his door.

"_Adventure will fix you!"_

"_Come with us."_

"_Iiiit's adventure time!"_

Idiots. But he tagged along on their idiot quest anyway.

"_We did it! It's the Enchiridion II!"_

"_Whaddya mean this was pointless, look at it!"_

All that sweat blood and tears for a dumb book. He held it distastefully, unimpressed. Then a light – it takes him away.

"_Damn you."_

"_DISAPPEAR."_

He heard it first – his own axe bass cutting him through. Then he felt it repeatedly. He saw red; he snarled.

"_Look at me take your shit."_

The bass, the book, they're gone. He staggered blindly down the ravine and into his cave, bleeding the whole way. How did he end up so close to home, again?

Fucking front door won't open. He kicked it off its hinges.

Something became different about his house since he last left it but who cared about that when _everything hurt,_ like _damn_. His shirt was ruined and he tore that away; he fell into the tub and warm shower water dripped over him and that was almost a relief. He closed his eyes and let the gashes heal. There's an axe bass-shaped hole in his very being that stung even worse, though...

Lights turned on.

The fuck? Some fool with a death wish was in his house and

"_What the freak?"_

No way. That voice was something heard only in dreams. But he'd know it anywhere, even real life.

"_Marshall Lee?"_

He opened bleary eyes. He grabbed that hand – it's real, alright. Why? How?

"I know you."

Every facet of her face, her voice, and her expressions was just as he knew it from those lucid dreams.

"You're Marceline."

She left. He stood up. He was going to follow her because things can disappear when they're out of sight but for the first time in, well, forever, his balance failed.

He fell headfirst.

**\/\/\/\/**

"Marshall Lee?"

He leans over the sink, gripping. His head spins, blood trickles down his nose, his knuckles are turning white. Then, a calm feeling as everything sinks into place. So _that's_ what he forgot. It all makes sense now. He's Marshall Lee the Vampire King and he's been around Aaa for a whole millenium.

A hand goes on his arm. It's Marceline.

"Did it work?"

So this is who he is and where he's from and the past four weeks are not lucid dreams but reality.

"Hey." Her voice compels no less than it did before. "Say something."

He should grin and tell her_ yeah it worked, guess what, you'll never believe this it's cra-azy. _Instead, he mutters "You're not my sister."

"What?" Marceline was ready to jam a towel up his nose but she pauses. Her face is flawless symmetry, the best kind of mirror. Did he really not see this coming?

Marshall Lee looks at her just a little longer and of all the profound new things to think about, he wonders if this revelation changes anything at all.

"You're me..."

"What..?"

It's a truth that hasn't been told in either dimension for a long time. In the small space of her kitchen, Marshall Lee tells Marceline about himself and the place where he's from.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

**A/N:** True love pwns magic and Marshall Lee remembers everything. Now he's gonna act mature and whatnot. In summary:

Ice King's fanfics were on point all along. Aaa, the genderswapped AU of Ooo, is real.

Starting from the epilogue of my last story, Fionna Cake and Marshall Lee found the Enchiridion II in Aaa. Then Marshall Lee mysteriously got sent to Ooo and the rest is history.

Marshall Lee and Marceline are each other's genderbent equivalent.

I guess if you wanted to you could argue MarceLee is _kind of_ incestuous? Selfcestuous? idc true love prevails these guys ar righteous

Double chapter swagger this week =D b/c I'm late D= But I hope it's still good.

* I made _The Hangover _jokes and a Naruto joke and they were a-ight

Thanks for the constant reviews they were all cool and they motivate me!

**Dani4Short: **Nah they're not brother-sister. I will always reply. Like Siri or something.

**lilysash97:** Aha. Jerome lost his sister and yeah he's planning some stuff back in Aaa.

**monkey**: I knoow broo

**bangitrealgood**: 'Come' again? Lul

**SimplyPassingBy**: Super humbled by that review. I'm glad someone finds Jerome interesting, he was a challenge to write. Good luck with military, keep up that fic!

**Marceleeregina**: Lol that's okay!

**Doctor**: You write? Cool shite =]

**me:** I'm told I have fabulously questionable taste in music. So yeah, you must be pretty cool haha

**Guest:** Ty, ty

**observantrobin**: Lol it's just selfcest nbd.

**Lili The Amazing Clutz**: Here you go yo


	15. Heartbeat

**Heartbeat**

I wanted you to know

That I am ready to go

_- Childish Gambino_

* * *

Bubblegum is ecstatic. Finn and Jake think it's cool. Lady Rainicorn says Korean stuff. Overall, everyone agrees that a parallel genderbent world is such a crazy idea, of course only Ice King could've seen it coming.

"Where _is_ that old bag?" Finn wonders as they laze about the Candy Castle astronomy tower. No one has seen Ice King in weeks.

"Shh don't jinx it," Jake says, propped up against his rainbow-bodied baby mama. "These are chillaxing times in the kingdom..."

"Marshall Lee come see this planetary body," Bubblegum says for the dozenth time tonight. She had insisted that he come over pronto for stargazing and everyone else just showed up too. After all, who doesn't want to see the mysterious world of Aaa for the first time ever?

But it seems Aaa is farther than current technology can reach. Once again, Marshall Lee peers through the telescope and says "Yeahh, that's not Aaa."

The princess throws a royal scientific fit. Notes fly. "Where _is_ this planet! If only I could locate its coordinates, then intergalactic travel between our worlds would be a matter of-"

But of course she'll figure out where Aaa is eventually; she's Bubblegum. Hell, she doesn't even need any of them here, not even Marshall Lee, except for moral support and venting and Grod knows that's killer on the ears. Marceline says _Bonnie I'll get you coffee,_ leaves, and doesn't come back. Eating red stuff is a better idea; she goes and makes herself at home in Bubblegum's kitchen just like old times.

She's sitting at the table with a sandwich and thinking about neo-psychedelia when the lights flicker. The fireplace dims. Then everything goes pitch-black and the kitchen maids scramble away for matches.

"Boo."

A chin rests itself on her head and Marceline peers upwards. "Having fun?"

"M-hmm."

Marshall Lee has done nothing useful with his rediscovered demon-powers. The sandwich lazily floats out of her hands...

"Mine," Marceline snaps.

It's dark in here but Marshall Lee catches the right-hand karate chop aimed at his forehead. Then he just laughs. No revenge nose-pinching or anything. "Let's ditch."

"Don't you have a home planet to find?"

"It's not going anywhere."

"True."

"And besides." Marshall Lee makes no puppy eyes, just grins. His fingers trace easy lines across the back of her hand. "I already know you're gonna say yes to me. We're gonna hold hands the whole time."

One does not simply argue with impeccable logic.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

Moments after he took the pill and she plugged up his bloody nose, the words came pouring out. _Vampire King, Aaa,_ _you're me._ They sat on the counter for an eternity. He talked, sometimes concisely and other times not. She listened and interrupted and remembered to close her open jaw since, simply put, Marshall Lee's story is mindfuck. Parellel world, huh? And her identical man-self dropped right into her bathtub?

Who knew. And then naturally, they had to go over their respective one thousand years of living and compare and contrast and be awestruck by the nuances of it all.

_You're me_.

There was a time when her most profound worries were grocery shortage and the latest amplifiers. Many, many hours later, when they ran out of things to say but not things to ponder, they asked in synchrony:

_But you still like me, right?_

It's been 24 hours since Marshall Lee got his memories back and Marceline thinks he's the same as he's always been.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

"Here. I started lucid-dreaming about you here."

They're on top of a marble tomb at the graveyard, floating crossed-legged. Marceline strums Led Zeppelin on her axe bass. "We jammed to _Ten Years Gone_."

Marshall Lee frowns pensively. "That's not what I would've sung to you."

Marceline raises an eyebrow. Then she passes him the bass. "Oh yeah?"

She half-expects him to rap _good gracious ass is bodacious _but he doesn't_. _She already knew he can work a guitar, but apparently she'd forgotten he sounds as good as he looks.

"_How do I get back to the place where I fell_

_Asleep inside you?"_

Marceline is smiling widely by the time he's done (who wouldn't that, was pretty impressive improv). "You held out. How come you never sang forreal before?"

"Because I'd rather listen to you," he admits with a straight face. Coming from Marshall Lee, he of the perfect-pitch ears, that's high compliment for days.

"Can you repeat that? Louder?"

He says "Guess how _I_ first dreamed about you."

"Pervertedly?"

"Nah. Not yet. I was getting some dog food and this vampire chick took the last one. She knew I wanted it, too."

"That bitch."

"Quite. Then she just kept showing up after that."

What _don't_ they have in common? Marceline supposes those nuances will turn up on their own, as they have in the past four weeks. Then something else occurs to her.

"'_Nah not yet_'?"

Marshall Lee shrugs, still strumming. "You asked."

"You molested dream-me?"

"One time. Maybe two." Marceline's arms fold on their own. He eyes them, bemused. "It wasn't even like that, you were cool with it."

Well he _is _a guy but Marceline still makes a face. "Swerve."

"Hey," Marshall Lee says and he sets her bass down. "Can I ask you something?"

He used to be such a troll whenever his voice got all quiet and serious. But she always leans forward.

"Does it matter that we're the same?"

That's easy. Marceline answers "Nope."

"You sure? No take-backs."

She rolls her eyes. "It's not rocket science, Marshall Lee. I'm me, you're you, we dig each other."

His smile is wry. "Touche."

"And by the way, since you're all better now," Marceline adds, fingers drumming casually on both knees. She can't bite her bottom lip for long when she's grinning smugly like this. "When you gonna ask me out forreal?"

No hesitation.

"Marceline will you go out with me?"

He asks easily. She's heard it before. But her heart-guts do a couple flips and she's getting warm feels all over and she's not even alive _or_ a silly schoolgirl.

"Okay," Marceline says and that settles that.

"We better kiss on it."

"Yeah, we should."

Being with Marshall Lee is easy – ridiculously so. Marceline leans over and takes his face in both hands. He lets her. Then before long his arm goes around her waist and he's pulling her close and she finds herself in his lap. Still kissing, though. Cold fingertips press into exposed skin at the base of her spine. It's only Tier 2 3 and maybe 4, but Marceline sighs.

Her leg bumps into the axe bass. Then she realizes he's sitting on hard marble now and it seems they haven't been floating for some time...

"Sorry about your bass," she mumbles, meaning every word. Marshall Lee is still close enough for her to feel downcast lashes against her brow.

"Don't worry about it."

That fools no one. He's going for her mouth again but her fingers find the neck of her bass. She holds the guitar up. "Hey. Play mine."

Marshall Lee raises an eyebrow. Marceline slides off and the axe bass replaces her stead. "C'mon I wanna see you rock out. _Really_ rock out."

"You know what happens when I do that, right?"

"Exactly."

He laughs. Then he gets up and takes her bass with all the smoothness of a seasoned musician and epic, melodic things are sure to come. But before he goes he presses fine lips against that spot between her jaw and her ear. "Sure thing babe."

And knowing Marshall Lee he's probably most likely just teasing but Marceline touches that small area of skin where he whispered _babe_ as she watches him float a ways away.

When did he get that smooth again?

Then his fingers start dancing and he's making godly noise and Marshall Lee plus the axe bass cut a fine figure between cemetery structures and sky.

Marceline thinks she's never seen or heard anything like him. It's not quite like watching _Scream Queens _concert videos or listening to her top-secret song-diary. He's playing for her, he's playing like she can, but this music is something that's only comes from... well, _Marshall Lee_.

That's pretty dope.

"_You're freaking dope!_" she shouts over flawless effortless riffing, on the off-chance that he doesn't already know. He heard; he flashes one of those contagious smiles that simply must be returned.

The skies darken gradually; they rumble. Marshall Lee keeps playing song after song after song and finally, as if some kind of climactic supernatural response from beyond the stratosphere, thunder roars and lightning comes crashing down. But they already expected that. Maybe it's from all the godly sound waves or maybe axe basses can in fact conduct weather.

Marceline thinks she can watch forever – even when the wind picks up and the rain starts to pour.

The weather keeps up long after Marshall Lee stops rocking out a storm. He churns out one more long, languid chord and drops back down to earth looking like a really soaked really sexy rock-divinity. Oh, right. He looks really good in the rain.

"How'd I do!" Marshall Lee says loudly and quite hoarsely over the sound of wind and rain.

Marceline raises a rock sign. "Sick."

He smiles and muses "I wonder what's gonna happen when we rock out together?"

The thought makes her smile. "A hurricane."

"Great power."

"Great responsibility."

A loud high five leads to fingers intertwining on the way down. Marceline slicks wet fringes out of her eyes to see better. Not for the first time, she thinks he looks so fine it hurts sometimes. You'd never suspect he likes rom-coms home décor and Card Wars and has shitty puns for days.

Good Grod. Marshall Lee is damn perfect and they're _together_.

"You're cute when you ogle," he informs her. Marceline has a comeback to that, she's about to say it, when sunlight prickles the back of her neck.

_Sunlight_? They just got to the cemetery and already it's _morning_? But sure enough, the storm is passing. Sunlight pierces through the clouds.

Sunlight _hurts_. Marceline would demand _go play again_ but it's too late for that. Marshall Lee tugs at her hand.

It's Hiding-Until-Someone-Comes-By-With-An-Umbrella Time.

**\/\/\/\/**

* * *

**A/N: **just some fluff run kids

* * *

Marceline hasn't been caught by morning sunrise in decades. Now they're taking refuge in the very same tomb they were playing on. It's dark enough inside, the gates weren't hard to slip through. The tomb is fairly roomy since it's for some distant royal family that no one's ever heard of; in fact, there's enough space from the top of the mausoleum to the ceiling to sit in, and that's where they are now with their backs against marble wall. Just chilling.

"Double rainbow," Marshall Lee points to the sunny outside world beyond the gates. "What could it mea-"

Marceline sneezes. He throws a cursory glance over the damp state of her shirt her pants and her sandals, and unbuttons his plaid.

"I don't want your wet shirt."

"I was on fire, of course it's not wet."

The plaid goes over her shoulders and it actually is warm and not that damp. It smells of Marshall Lee. Marceline mumbles a grateful _thanks _and decides not to say anything about his very metro v-neck undershirt. They're good at this too, the sitting-together-doing-nothing thing.

"What do you want to do?" Marceline asks.

No response.

"Marsh?"

He coughs hoarsely. "Oh. _Ahem_. Sorry Marcy. My pipes are kinda... yeah..."

"Oh. Sorry." She almost feels bad about making him sing song after song except her ears aren't actually sorry. But the rest of her is. Her brow finds his right shoulder and stays there. Their limbs touch.

"Hey," Marshall Lee croaks after a while. She looks up; he pats his knees. He innocently adds "It's cold."

Marceline's new favorite place to sit in quickly becomes the space between Marshall Lee's bent legs. Forearms snake around her waist. He's not that much taller but she fits into his chest, exactly. They stay this way.

It starts with a shiver. Marceline feels it run up his spine down the length of his limbs, they're that attuned. She rubs his arm. Gently, comfortingly. Marshall Lee sighs into her ear.

She wonders if he's asleep. Marceline looks up. Closed eyelids open; he blinks, sees her looking, and smiles. It's so easy to forget that they're damp and stranded and freezing

She kisses him just because.

He kisses back and the rest of her turns. She's still massaging his arm, still staving goosebumps away, Grod forbid she be the one actually causing them in the first place. Another shiver – but friction make you warm?- and the other hand rubs neck-shoulder-chest and at some point she just has to admit her intentions aren't that pure anymore. Here they go again but they're just kissing.

His plaid falls off her shoulders and they're just kissing. Then touching through fabric isn't quite good enough; her hands slip underneath. He already knows she has this grudging fascination for his abdomen and as her palms roam up down sideways, they're just kissing. She ends up doing away with his shirt entirely and he lets her since they're just kissing. They sink lower, lower, until Marshall Lee is on his back and her hair falls down like a curtain. Then they stop.

She looms over him; he's gazing up at her. She can taste him, breathe him in, touching is contact high.

"I like you, Marshall Lee."

His shoulders tensed when they reached the ground but now they loosen underneath her hands. Marshall Lee makes a small _tsk_ sound. He grins wistfully but she can't imagine why.

"Okay."

She doesn't have to grind into his hips as she straddles him down but she does, repeatedly. Marshall Lee exhales. She finds that spot beneath the jaw the he so often harasses on her, and bites. It works. He curses. Lips tongue and teeth map his skin at a leisurely pace and to his credit he keeps his hands to her ass as she works her way down.

Or not. She gets as far as his ribcage. She's messing with his belt when he takes her shoulders and flips her over. Her breath catches because Marshall Lee looks like a lot of things on top of her but when did he start looking like

"You know," he admits, "That's pretty much what happened with dream-you."

Marceline is more curious than annoyed at the moment. "Pretty much?"

"You had an apron on."

"Fuck you, Marshall Lee." But her arms go slack around him already and her thighs press into his waist. He pushes her shirt upwards until his fingers settle on the cup of her bra. She can feel a knee digging between her legs. Ironically, the look on his face is _tender _even if firm strokes shake her spine.

There's always been something about Marshall Lee's long, perfectly callused fingers. She already knows they make nimble love to guitars; feeling them mold her breasts is tantric. Marceline takes his hand and slides it downwards and those fingers slip past thin fabric.

Oh Grod, and she stifles a moan. Her eyes close shut and there's only smell sensation and sound and it's mathematical to the fucking utmost. She needs more, she may have whispered it, he's pushing her bra away and his mouth is warm and wet and perfect on her breast... her fingers bury themselves in his hair... he can do what he wants where he wants as long as he keeps making her writhe until she-

_Clang_. It's the sound of the latch being lifted. They jolt. Eyes meet and the mutual thought is that any minute later there would have been no jolting. Probably just a lot of some form of fucking and that could be a good thing or a bad thing. Past her legs and her open fly, Marceline can see the top of the gates swing open... a purple umbrella is folded down...

"Dear Fave Great-Grandmama Up In Heaven Twice Removed," the voice drawls out, oh damn it's LSP. "And you other guys too."

Up on the mausoleum, mostly out of sight, they slowly untangle and press their backs to the wall. Marceline shoots a questioning look; Marshall Lee responds with kissing her nose. Meanwhile, LSP continues to pray to her twice-removed ancestors for guidance.

"He lumpin' loves me Great-Grandmama! It's gonna be soo hard! But I choose him; I choose Tony!"

Marshall Lee blocks his nostrils with the back of his hand; Marceline stifles her own snort into his bare shoulder. Grod, they look ratchet. He reaches over to fix her bra but the straps snap loudly...

LSP is louder. "I know, I know, he's a man of Grod, but he only did it cuz Stephanie tootally ripped up his heart guts."

The monologue about Tony the wolf-cleric takes up time. Enough time, actually, for Marshall Lee to be suitable for standing again and for them to start reassembling clothing.

"So anyway, I just wanted to say goodbye. Cuz starting today, me and Tony are running away together forever. I'll never forget you, dead Grand-mama."

A moment of silence. A few tearful sniffs. And then it sounds like LSP is turning to go.

To her shame, Marceline fleetingly considers staying in the tomb. But of course she ends up calling out "LSP hey!"

LSP turns.

"Up here!" Marceline leans head and shoulders over the mausoleum and waves.

LSP exclaims "_Marceline_? I see you everywhere! Watcha doin' here?"

"Oh you know, chillin'." Marceline replies casually. "Hey so... can I borrow that umbrella? I kinda lost mine."

"Bummer-lumps. I'll walk you home, girlfriend!"

"Nah that's okay, I gotta... go see Marshall Lee..."

LSP frowns. "He's not hitting that, is he?"

Marceline asks "Hitting what?" with a straight face.

"The cheek-meat, girl. Cheek-meat."

"Yeah, no, he doesn't hit that."

"Oh good cuz I was gonna give him a talk."

"Nah. We're good."

Romance is what LSP knows best. She throws the umbrella over. "Okay Marceline, you tell Marshall Lee I said _he-eey_."

Marceline catches said umbrella. "Alright."

LSP turns to go again when Marshall Lee sneezes a loud, reverberating "ACHOO."

**\/\/\/\/**

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**A/N:** Yeah idk what tier that was. Summary:

1) Princess Bubblegum tries to find a way to Aaa

2) MarceLee is official

3) Real Marshall Lee has +100 charisma points and Marceline needs to learn to deal

4) LSP elopes with Tony

Conflict is for later. Next couple chapters are just gonna be MarceLee being otp b/c it's relationship time.

How was this chapter? I dig feedbacks =D

**s/n: **I personally think this story can still get away with a T rating? For now? Not sure. If anyone can tell me i'd appreciate.

* Use Third Eye Blindto serenade it works [on cool people] I guarantee


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